By the light of the moon
by bbbbbbbbbb
Summary: As the Cullens struggle to uncover the truth behind the appearence of a bloody stranger in the woods, the mysterious prey of a vicious werewolf, they find there is more to her dark past than any of them would have guessed...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter one

Bella's POV:

It was Emmett's turn up to bat, Alice was pitching, Jasper was on third and Edward was on second. Though my understanding of sports was not exactly up to scratch, I had gotten a vague sense of the game from watching the Cullens. Emmett had teasingly told me that pretty soon I'd understand enough to start playing myself, I grinned and told him not a chance. I knew he was joking, no one in their right mind would put a baseball bat in my hands, but I think he was also hoping I might decide to give it a try. Emmett loved to win, and winning for him would be pitifully easy if I were playing against him.

So as usual I sat on the sidelines, so to speak, it was really just an old log set alongside the broad field, and watched the vampires light up the game with their speed and strength. Rose and Esme were referring; well, Esme referred, Rosalie was more interested in watching Emmett flex his muscles as he got ready to send the ball soaring. Edward kept glancing over at me and laughing to himself, I pretended not to see him, and sat straight with as much dignity as I could muster with the too-big baseball cap seated jauntily on my head.

When I had told Charlie I would be going with the Cullens to play, he had insisted on giving me his old baseball cap to wear while my companions played. I think he meant it as a joke, and I had no intention of wearing the thing either way, but at the moment Charlie was handing it to me Edward had arrived to pick me up. He caught onto what Charlie was doing right away, stupid mind reading, and had insisted that I wear the hat. I was adamant, I would not wear it, it was the most lurid shade of orange I had ever seen, and was large enough to cover a bowling ball, who would even buy such a hat?

Charlie said he'd bought it in Vegas with my mom, they'd seen it in a gift shop and he'd tried it on as a joke and my mom had laughed so hard at the sight of him that he bought it on the spot. He blushed as he recounted this story, I knew he was uncomfortable talking about Renee; he had never really fallen out of love with her, while she was now remarried.

Edward and I had left the house, me still holding the hat but determined not to put it on my head, and looking pointedly away from Edward. I knew he was waiting for me to make eye contact so that he could persuade me to wear the cap. But once we were in the Volvo it was only a matter of time until I glanced over at him, and then I was toast. He made his amber eyes larger than I would have thought possible, begging and compelling at the same time. "Please, Bella," he said in a low voice, pronouncing the word carefully so that his alluring breath blew toward me. I blinked and tried to pull my gaze away, "no," I said, pursing my lips to keep them from blurting out an agreement of their own accord. "But Bella, it will be wonderfully entertaining." He said, leaning toward me, going in for the kill. Oh god, I was such a push over around him, it was pathetic. "Um…" I tried to remember my resolve; the hat-the hat was orange, it was heinous, no way was I wearing it… "Please, for a laugh, Bella, for me." That was it, I was done for. I sighed, which didn't help because the air was full of his delicious smell, and nodded dully. His mouth pulled up in a stunning grin, and he reached over and settled the hat on my head. He leaned away to get a better look at me, and burst into laughter. I scowled at him, but I couldn't take it off, his laughter was too enchanting, I didn't want it to stop.

He chuckled all the way to the field, and I was greeted with similar reactions from all of the Cullens when they set eyes on me in the neon abomination. But I gamely wore it throughout the evening, trying to maintain what little dignity I had left by not backing down. Did that even make sense?

Thunder was sounding in the distance, muffling the echoing crack of the bat as Emmett hit and sped to first base before I could blink. It would start to rain soon, Alice had predicted, so I had my raincoat in my lap, secretly grateful for an excuse to take off my badge of shame. I felt a drop land on my cheek and turned my face skyward. I couldn't see any stars above me, just massive, opaque clouds heavy with rain and illuminated from within by lightning. I gratefully pulled my arms through my raincoat and tugged the hat off my head so that I could secure my hood. I saw that Edward looked disappointed when he saw me remove the hat; I smiled at him and suppressed the desire to stick out my tongue.

Jasper had made his run for home, skidding to a stop twenty yards from the base near the perimeter of trees, waving the battered base in the air like a trophy. Ha ha, "stealing base", clever. Jasper always seemed more exuberant when he was playing, not as withheld as usual, and I could tell it made Alice happy to see him having fun. I smiled, watching as Jasper did a victory lap around the field, paying no heed to the rain, he was just a blur to me. And then suddenly he stopped.

He jerked to a halt with such force I thought he must have hit something, an invisible wall. He turned to look at the woods a few yards away, not seeming to notice the rain pelting right into his face. His nostrils flared and I saw all of the Cullens stiffen. Alice shot to Jasper's side and took his arm, standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear, but he didn't seem to be listening. He took a step forward and Carlisle, Emmett, and Edward all made to move toward him, but their attention was caught by something a little beyond Jasper. Through the rain and darkness it was hard for me to detect what exactly they were looking at, but I caught a flicker of movement in the trees, someone or something was in the woods. A second later a figure broke from the cover of the leaves and stumbled as they emerged, nearly loosing their footing, but catching themselves and standing up, running.

I narrowed my eyes trying to make out the face more clearly, I stood up and took a few steps forward, Edward and Emmett were moving toward Jasper and Alice and the figure near the woods, I sped up, what had them all so on edge? As I neared them I stopped, my eyes fixed on the figure, whom I could now make out clearly. It was a girl, a human girl from the looks of her, she had none of the grace and agility of a vampire, her run was labored and tired-looking. She looked a little younger than me, she had a backpack swung over one shoulder and her clothes were muddied and wet, she had no protection against the rain. She looked harmless to me, exhausted-looking and dirty, not a vampire and not even a particularly imposing human.

But then I noticed what the others must have seen, probably smelled, right away. The girl's shirt bore a large red stain at her shoulder, there was a long gash across her cheekbone, and the left leg of her jeans was saturated with blood. She was injured, and she was bleeding heavily, and Jasper's eyes were fixed on her. His posture was rigid, and his face was strained, Carlisle and Alice were both clutching his arms and talking into his ears, trying to make him move.

Out of all the Cullens, Jasper struggled most with the thirst for human blood, he generally avoided contact with humans because he often found it so difficult to resist his craving, and he would never intentionally be in the vicinity of a bleeding human, because he knew all too well how overpowering the lure would be. Carlisle and Alice were pulling at his arms, trying to draw him away, but he stood stiff, his stance taking on a predatory, feline look. He strained against their grips, his nostrils flared toward the smell of fresh blood. And the girl was running toward them, oblivious to the fact that twenty feet away a bloodthirsty vampire was fighting to spring at her.

She stumbled again, and this time she fell, hitting the ground with a soft groan, her hands palm down on the dirt, her fingers gripping the grass, as if trying to will herself to stand. At the moment she stumbled Jasper let out a guttural snarl that made all the hair stand up on my neck, and broke Carlisle and Alice's hold, lunging toward the girl lying immobile in the grass.

In a flash Emmett and Edward were wrestling Jasper away from his prey, who didn't move even as Jasper lunged with hands outstretched to rend her. She didn't seem to hear the horrible growls and snarls as the three vampires fought only a few feet away from her. Jasper tore savagely at his brothers as they exerted all their strength trying to pull him back. Carlisle, Rosalie, Esme and Alice were beside them as well, dragging Jasper away from the injured girl, though all the faces except Carlisle's were taut and strained, they tried to turn away from the scent of human blood but it was clearly difficult to ignore.

As the Cullens battled Jasper away from his prey, I ran toward the girl. I heard Edward shout something at me but I didn't hear, the only thought in my head was to help her, get her away from Jasper. I turned her over onto her back the better to pull her and felt at her wrist for a pulse. A pulse was pulsing steadily under the cool skin, and I took hold of her arms and tried to pull her to her feet. "Jordan," she muttered, slumping in my hold, her legs unable to support her weight, "Jordan please…" her voice was soft and weak, she opened eyes that were foggy with fatigue and blood loss, she looked up at me through the wet hair falling into her face.

"You need to get up, " I said quickly, still trying to steady her, "can you walk?" I got her to her feet and she stood for a moment with me still clutching her elbows. "I think…" She took a step and her knees buckled, I caught her before she dropped to the ground and pulled her up again, letting her lean her weight into my chest. "No," she said, looking over her shoulder at me, her eyes still unfocused, "my leg is... I don't know-I think he bit me..."

"He didn't bite you." I said, dragging her a few steps away from the struggling vampire clan. If he'd gotten close enough to bite her she'd already be dead. I suppressed the rising panic in my chest and heaved her a few more steps, nearly falling over an upraised root, which I assumed had tripped her in the first place. "He did," she slurred disjointedly, sagging further into my hold as I tried to pull her toward to cover of the trees.

"I stopped to rest…just for a minute… I only just got away…" She looked down at the blood soaked denim of her calf, "wow" she murmured, "I didn't think it was that bad."

I couldn't spare breath to correct her, we were almost at the trees and the roars and bellows from behind were still strong, though the Cullens had managed to pull Jasper a few yards away I gathered the lure of the blood was still potent. I looked down at her leg, at the cut on her cheek and the red stain on her shirt; I gathered that all these wounds were still open. The stain was spreading on the white cloth, it had transformed almost her whole chest into a scarlet field, and the right side of her face was caked with dried blood.

"Ok, come on, just a little farther…" I said it more for my benefit than for hers, as I didn't think she was listening anyway. I wasn't sure what protection the forest would give us, but I suspected it wouldn't be much. I knew the scent of her blood would be easy to follow, even in the woods with so many other competing scents; it would take less than a second for Jasper to lock onto the smell. Outrunning him would be impossible, especially since his prey couldn't even stand, let alone run. But it might be difficult for him to corner us within the close-knit trees and thick underbrush. I tried not to conjure images of a crazed Jasper ambushing us in the darkness, the feral snarl as he lunged at her throat… I shivered and pulled my companion up a little straighter as we entered the shadows of the forest.

"What are you doing?" came a sleepy voice from below my chin. I looked down at her face and tried to smile encouragingly, but it felt more like a tensed grimace. "We're going to try to go deeper into the woods, and find somewhere safe…" There was no where safe in Jasper got loose, I could only hope to get her far enough away that he would be able to overcome his thirst, and that the Cullens would be able to hold him back. "Woods?" she repeated faintly. "Yes." I said, trying to sound relaxed, as if I weren't trying to drag her away from certain death.

"No," she said, and there was an edge to her voice now, I paused. "What?"

"We can't go into the woods-can't-he's in here…" she began to struggle in my grip, trying to unfasten my arms from around her torso even though they were the only thing keeping her on her feet. "Go back!" she said, trying to extricate herself with still more force, "you can't be here, he's coming- let me go!" She wriggled like an eel with sudden vigor; it took all my strength to keep her in my hold. "Calm down, you can't stay here, we have to keep moving-"

I stopped, I'd heard something, below the constant patter of the rain, the snap of a twig, maybe twenty feet away. I turned my head very slowly in the direction I'd heard it, and I could dimly make out a dark form through the trees. It couldn't be Jasper, the others would have followed him, and he couldn't have overpowered them all. But there was someone, moving toward us with deliberate stealth and slowness. I didn't think he knew I'd seen him, and he was coming closer, slowly, trying not to squelch in the mud or rustle too many tree branches.

There was another quiet snap as he pushed past a bush, a sound you could never detect unless you were listening for it. The girl heard it too; she went still for a moment and cocked her head, then whispered, "He's here,"

"Who is it?" I breathed, my eyes still on the approaching figure.

"Let go of me, walk away slowly, he doesn't want you, don't run, it'll just attract his attention…"

"Who is he?"

"Please just leave me…"

I didn't answer, didn't move. Instinct was screaming at me to run, but logic told me I couldn't run with the girl, and I couldn't leave her. The figure was now only a few feet away; he had paused and seemed to be watching us through the tree branches. It was definitely a man, tall and lean with broad shoulders, his silhouette stood at least half a foot taller than me. He didn't move, neither did we.

He cocked his head a fraction; I heard a faint intake of breath, and then a harsh exhalation. Then he let out a low groan, which deepened into a canine growl, and the form hunched, the back arched and the arms clutched the chest, he began to shudder and his breathing grew loud and ragged. There was a sudden terrible snarl, different from Jasper's though just as chilling, followed by a continuous, rough growl, like sand paper against gravel, and a shape that was no longer a man was moving toward us again.

The head and body had elongated and grown, the limbs had bent and warped, and I could now make out the eerie green glint of staring eyes. I took a step backwards, clutching the girl, feeling the panic and terror filling my throat like bile, building up to a scream. The growl broke and there was a loud, piercing howl and the creature lunged at us, I closed my eyes and screamed…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

Bella's POV:

I felt something hard and sharp slash my arm, cutting through the slick, pliable cloth of my raincoat and grazing the bare skin beneath, drawing blood. I fell, thrown off balance by the force of the attack, taking the inert girl with me. We hit the ground with a thud; I felt the great weight of the predator crash into the mud beside us, carried too far by the strength of his leap. Before I could open my eyes I heard a horrible roar of rage, and then deep growls and snarls, vicious tearing noises. I whipped my head in the direction of the uproar and made precise contact with the tree trunk to my left. Ow. Blinking to dislodge the ringing pain in my forehead I strained to distinguish the two fighting forms. One was the massive, beast-like shape that had attacked us, the other was much smaller in comparison, and had the shape of a human, but was clearly matching the animal in both strength and ferocity.

I tried to roll onto my side, away from the chaotic battle five feet away, and felt the form of the wounded girl splayed on the ground next to me, face down in the mud, her injured leg caked in leaves and bramble. I scrambled to my feet, dizziness threatened as I straightened but I couldn't spare it a thought, I leaned down and tried to lift the still body beside me. Behind, the sounds of slashing and snapping grew louder and wilder, growls and screams that deafened me and made my movements shaky and clumsy with terror. I heaved her up half way, so that her torso was suspended by her arms while her legs lolled useless on the ground. I hauled again, pulling her up a little higher and trying to drag her as quickly as I could away from the fight.

There was a long, ravenous shriek cut short by a harsh, inhuman cry that sent ice through my bloodstream. Distressed, rasping gurgles of rage and pain sounded, followed by the whimpers, sounds of scraping and scuffling, and another long howl.

Then I felt arms seize me from behind; hard, muscled arms that wrapped around my waist in a fast grip, startling a terrified scream from the hysteric fear boiling in my throat. Then I was in the air, swung up into the grasp of someone who lifted me as easily as if I weighed nothing. I thrashed and kicked in blind panic, sobbed.

"Bella!" I heard the voice but couldn't believe it was who I thought it was. There was no way he could have entered this nightmare to bring me salvation. I had to have passed out, was hallucinating, maybe I'd even died; had my life torn from me so quickly I hadn't even felt it. The voice spoke again; fear and distress making it crack like hard sugar. "Bella, are you hurt! It's me, Bella, please tell me-"

"Stop! Stop, the girl-you have to get her-"

"Carlisle has her, Bella, please, are you alright?"

"I'm fine-I'm not hurt, just…" Terrified, hysterical, so overwrought with tension and fright that I couldn't stop shaking. I crossed my arms across my chest and clutched my rib cage, trying to suppress my thumping heart rate, trying to still the trembling. I knew I was scaring him too, knew he was panicked not by the battle but by the idea that I might be badly hurt. I didn't want him to be afraid for me, I wanted him to know I was alright. I unfastened my clenched fists and wrapped my arms around his neck, sobbed silently into his cold shoulder. I took a deep calming breath and raised my head, looking up at the speeding surroundings.

We were out of the field and almost at the house, we had bypassed the car altogether, and I could see Emmett running a little way ahead of us, and Carlisle just behind, carrying the unconscious human as if she were a rag doll, her limbs limp and light in his hold. I gripped Edward's neck with enough force to strangle a normal person and inhaled his calming smell, trying to expel the last of the hysteria from my chest.

We were through the door and in the living room before I could raise my head again, and Edward was depositing me on one of the couches with tender care, and I could hear the others nearby, their voices raised in confusion and fear. I rolled over and saw Carlisle laying the girl down on the couch opposite, adjusting her arms and legs so that they were all straight, the better to assess the damage. Her battered bag was on the floor, and in the clear brightness of the room her injuries looked even more gory. The whole right side of her face was crusted with blood, her shirt was almost entirely soaked red and the bottom of her left leg was a caking of clotted blood, dirt and leaves.

Emmett, Rose, and Esme all hovered in the other room, keeping a wary distance from the excessive amount of fresh blood. Alice and Jasper were nowhere to be seen. Edward was still leaning over me, though his whole body was rigid and his jaw was clenched, I knew he had no intention of leaving. He pushed the tangled hair out of my face and kissed my forehead, forcing a weak smile onto his face. "Never just a safe, simple evening with you, is it?" he asked jokingly, but his eyes were over-bright. I let out a weak laugh, "this time it wasn't me, it was Jasper, and that girl."

"But you tried to carry her into the woods." He reminded me, "What were you thinking?"

"That I should get her as far away from Jasper as I could, for both their sakes." I said, some conviction returning to my voice. "Since you all seemed pretty busy I decided I should get her out of there." He closed his eyes and shook his head in an appalled manner, but then looked up at me and smiled, "that was very brave of you. And incredibly stupid. Where did you think you were going?" I shrugged, my head swam.

"Away. It was an impulse, it just seemed like the right thing to do." He rolled his eyes, "yes, I suppose it did."

I looked over at the other couch, Carlisle had fetched his supplies and was now bending over the girl, blotting at her face with an antiseptic wipe to clear away the blood. "Is she ok?" I asked anxiously. In our flight from the forest I hadn't really given much thought to the stranger, I'd forgotten her wounds and her odd behavior, forgotten the extent to which she was injured. Edward also looked over at his father as he busily worked and said "I'm sure it's nothing Carlisle can't fix with a little time and effort."

"She's hurt pretty bad." I said dubiously, he nodded gravely. "Yes, she's lost a lot of blood, that's what set Jasper off."

"Yea, where is he? And Alice? He didn't come after us in the woods, did he? That wasn't him?" I shivered at the thought and sat up a little, gazing at the girl. "No, we managed to restrain him, though it was very difficult, her blood was still flowing when he caught the scent, it sent him mad, it was so potent and in such a large dose."

"Was it potent?" I asked, my eyes not leaving her. "Very. There were no other competing human scents besides yours, and he's quite used to that. It was a very sudden, strong blast. She was very close, and had she not been bleeding it wouldn't have been a problem. But he wasn't expecting it, his guard was down, and then he caught the smell of it, and it was so much, he couldn't resist."

"So where are they?"

"Alice stayed with him at the field while we came here, when she's calmed him down and when she knows it's safe to come to the house they'll come back." I nodded, feeling a mixture of fear and relief. Fear of what had overcome Jasper, I'd never seen him go mad like that, never seen any vampire in that frenzy, except for James. And relief because he hadn't managed to act on his craving, that he hadn't shattered everything the Cullens had worked so hard for. He would be able to stay, to keep living as he did. I liked Jasper, and it had shaken me to see him deviate so dramatically from his normally smooth, calm disposition. The others were gesturing for Edward to join them in the hallway and he seemed hesitant to leave, but when he caught my eye I nodded and he stood, and hurried out to them.

He returned a moment later and bent by my side again, took my hand. The other three had vanished. "Where did they go?"

"They didn't think it wise to stay with so much blood in the room, so they went to the field to help Alice with Jasper. They'll come back when it's safe." I looked at him seriously, "you can go too, if you think you need to." He looked surprised. "I'm not going to leave." He stated simply. "But," I gestured at the girl across from us, whose jeans leg was now pushed up to her knee, revealing a gory mass of clotted blood. He glanced at her and shook his head, "I can handle that, the smell is enticing, yes, but its been spoiled, its rotten, because she's injured, and has been for some time. I believe she has an infection, it changes the smell. The bleeding has stopped, and it looses some of its lure when it isn't fresh, not as pleasant when it's cold." He wrinkled his nose.

"But I'm bleeding too, I think that-that thing in the woods scratched me, not a serious cut, but still…" He shook his head, pointed to my arm, "the blood is already clotted and forming a scab. I can smell it, yes, but it isn't overpowering. I can ignore it." I didn't back down.

"Are you sure?" He kissed my cheek, sending warm heat to my face, then said "yes, it is definitely tolerable. Ever since I have tasted you, pardon the term," I smiled a little, "I find it easier to sustain from the lure of it. I am even cocky enough to say I can handle being in the same room with a little of your blood out in the open. It's nothing to worry about." His eyes and voice were so compelling and sincere I couldn't think of a flaw in his reasoning. His stance was still tense, but not apprehensive, just stiff and inherently wary.

There was a moan from the couch across from me and my attention snapped from Edward to Carlisle and his patient. She was struggling into wakefulness, her mouth opened and she let out another moan and opened her eyes a little. She raised one hand to feel her cheek, prodding the fresh bandage taped over the long gash. She turned her head to the side and focused on me, she blinked, her lips cracked open and she said "hey stranger."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three

Bella's POV:

"Hi," I breathed quietly. Inadequate I know, but I couldn't think how else to respond, I'd never tried to save someone's life before, and didn't know how I was supposed to act. She opened her eyes a little wider and tried to sit up, which resulted in a loud wince and Carlisle's calm command "lie still, please."

"Sorry," she said, relaxing her head and turning it in my direction again. Her eyes were still swimming with fatigue, but she was concentrating on me, and it didn't look like she was going to pass out again "What happened?"

I glanced at Edward, um, help please? She was asking me directly, but I didn't know how much I should tell her. I had to tell her something, I couldn't just brush aside the battling vampire clan she'd witnessed in the field, or Jasper's attack, or my lugging her into the woods, or the appearance of the beast that Edward had fought off. Unless she'd miraculously tuned out for the entire night's events, maybe she had short-term memory loss? "You dragged me away from that man, the tall blond one who jumped at me, why did he do that?" So much for short-term memory loss.

"A momentary lapse of control," Carlisle answered coolly, taking out a roll of bandages. She turned her gaze to him, probing despite her weakness, her mouth twisted up in dissatisfaction with the answer. "Why?" she repeated. Carlisle glanced at Edward, Edward shrugged uneasily. "He thought you were an enemy." Carlisle said simply, his eyes back on her injury. "But he looked like he was hunting or something, he sniffed the air, he was looking at me like he wanted to eat me." Carlisle and Edward stiffened at this casual choice of words, but neither of them made eye contact with her. I was still watching her, I couldn't look away.

She opened her mouth to speak and then gasped in pain, looking down at her leg where Carlisle had cut away the grimy denim to reveal the wound. I looked at it too and immediately wished I hadn't, I felt sick to my stomach at the sight and the smell sent my head spinning.

Her whole calf was caked with red, and there was dirt and puss as well, I could tell that the wound was infected. The open, gruesome gash was jagged and deep, and had the horrible look of a bite wound, as if something massive had tried to tear her leg off. Deep, clotted puncture wounds wound their way around her calf, showing that the jaws of the attacker had latched on to her leg with brutal force. Carlisle was rubbing at the injury with a cloth soaked in peroxide, the wound sizzled, she grit her teeth as the stinging white liquid fizzed and bubbled across her skin.

"How did you get this?" Carlisle asked grimly, his deft, pale fingers gently swiping antibiotic cream over the wound. The girl clenched her jaw against the pain and glared at Carlisle, "oh, only you can ask questions? I shouldn't even bother trying to get answers?"

"We don't owe you answers." Carlisle said shortly, "if it were not for us you would surely be dead-" she stiffened, "from this infection. And you've lost a great amount of blood, I'm surprised you were even able to keep moving with such a deficiency, and I surmise that you haven't had much food or rest in a while either?"

"No." she said coldly. Carlisle didn't look up at her challenging tone. "Now, please, tell us your name and how you came to be so injured." She bit her lip and her fists clenched, but it was more out of pain than defiance. Her eyes were calculating, she looked as if she were deciding how much to tell us, and whether it would help her at all to trust us.

"My name is Dylan." She said, relaxing her posture somewhat and leaning her head back against the couch. "Dylan what? And where are you from?" Edward asked calmly. She didn't look at him, her teeth were clenched again, her eyes were shut. Carlisle was bandaging her leg, I guessed that every stroke and prod caused her pain. She didn't seem to care what she was saying. "Dylan Winchester. I'm from London." She didn't sound English, her voice had a certain subtle lilt to it but it wasn't the distinct, rounded British drawl, perhaps she'd lived in America for some time. "And why are you in Forks, Dylan? It seems a long way to come from England, did you have any purpose in coming here?"

"I was living in LA for the past few years, and I've been moving around a lot lately, moving north. I came here from Seattle."

"Why were you traveling north?"

She licked her chapped lips and shifted uneasily, wincing as she jostled her various wounds, "Problems in LA, just…things. I hitchhiked from place to place, trying to find somewhere to settle down. I just headed north because the first guy that picked me up on Route 101 was heading for San Francisco, so that's where I went."

"Don't you have a family that's wondering where you are? You aren't older than seventeen are you?"

"I'm sixteen. I don't have any family, they're all dead, or back in London."

"When and where did you receive these injuries?" She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, blinked, glanced over at Edward and me. "Right outside of Seattle, about a week ago." Carlisle frowned. "What did it?"

"A dog."

Carlisle's frown deepened and he looked over at Edward. Edward's eyes were fixed on Dylan, I knew he was sifting through her thoughts to pick out the truth of her words. He frowned, his brow furrowed. I looked at him in surprise, surely her mind couldn't be impenetrable to him the way mine was? He'd told me he'd never encountered that before. I looked at her too and her teeth were clenched again, and her eyes were half closed. "Are you sure it was a dog?" Carlisle asked, casting a quick, questioning glance at Edward. Edward shrugged, raised his eyebrows in wonder. "Yes," she breathed, "a rottweiler." Carlisle looked skeptical, but didn't argue with her.

He took out a small bottle, and an empty siring, pierced the lid with the needle and filled the cylindrical chamber with the clear liquid. "I'm going to give you a mild sedative," Carlisle told her, raising the shot to show her, she made a face. "I'm going to have to stitch up your leg, and most likely your shoulder as well. It will be much less painful if you aren't awake." She looked down again at the gory mass of her calf, nodded. Carlisle injected the medicine into her arm, and instructed her to lay still and relax. She looked over at me again, smiled a little.

"What's your name?"

"Bella, and this is Edward, and that's Carlisle" She nodded, but didn't look at the other two. Her eyes were half closed. "Well thank you Bella, for helping me…" she trailed off, shut her eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four

Bella's POV:

"You hit your head." Edward noted concernedly, caressing the lump on my forehead with his cool fingers, while we watched Carlisle finished stitching up Dylan's shoulder. "it's just a bump," I said flippantly. He smiled, looked as if he wanted to say something more, but Carlisle spoke from beside his patient. "Edward, can you shed some light on this?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, looking at Edward to see if there was anything I was missing. He was looking at Carlisle, his eyes troubled.

"She's lying to us." He said simply. I looked at Dylan again, unmoving on the couch as Carlisle tied off the last stitch. "They looked like dog bites to me," I said hesitantly, trying not to think about her wounds. Carlisle shook his head,

"She was not attacked by a rottweiler. I've seen rottweiler bites before, and these are too large for any common dog. A wolf or a bear perhaps, but not a dog. And what practical human would just keep traveling cross-country after a dog had viciously attacked them, or whatever it was that did this? She would have gone to a hospital if it was just a dog attack, but she didn't, even when the wounds became infected. She looks as if she's been traveling in the wilderness for a while. She's dehydrated and clearly hasn't had much food or sleep in days. What would make her put herself through all that? Had she not stumbled upon us, I don't hesitate to say she would have kept going until she collapsed from exhaustion or blood loss. There are clearly holes in her story, and we need to know why she is lying."

Edward was gazing at her again, his brow slightly furrowed. "Edward?" Carlisle said, implying that he expected an explanation. "I can't tell if she's lying or not." Edward said, frustration and confusion evident in his voice. I raised my eyebrows, "is she like me? Can you just not read her thoughts at all?" He shook his head, looking more irked and perplexed than ever. "No, it's not the same. With you it's like a void, I try to reach out for your mind and I can't find anything to latch on to. But with her I can only distinguish certain thoughts, but when I turn to other parts of her mind it's like there's a wall there. I know the information is there but I can't get at it. And when I dug in deeper all I could get was random images and snap shots, no continuous facts or memories. It's like she's blocked out certain sections of her mind, and I can't get at them."

"What thoughts and images were you able to retrieve?" Carlisle asked.

"Lots of memories of London, some of California, family, friends, only things from the past. Nothing recent. Then thoughts about us; curiosity mostly, and suspicion, not much fear. Then there were some scraps of thoughts surrounding a tall young man with green eyes, but I couldn't pin point exactly who he was or his significance. And then images of woods and roads and mountains, her travels I assumed. But when I tried to find out about what attacked her and why she came here, I was repelled."

Carlisle was frowning, he had finished the stitches and had bandaged all her injuries. He looked down solemnly at the unconscious girl.

"She was running away from someone, someone in the woods." I said, remembering her struggles upon entering the forest. "She was frightened and she told me to leave her and go back, she said "you can't be here, he's coming…" And then a man found us in the woods, and she said it was "him." She said to leave her, that he didn't want me. Then he changed into that, that thing…"

"A werewolf." Edward said darkly. I stopped talking and looked at him in surprise. "A what?"

"The thing that attacked you; it was a werewolf, a Lycan. I knew it immediately, and I knew he was hunting you. Even when I crept up behind him he didn't notice, he was so intent on you."

"On Dylan." I said faintly. She'd said he would be coming for her, that he was waiting in the woods, that I had to let her go and flee, that he only wanted her.

Carlisle shook his head, "werewolves only stalk humans for food. And they don't often hunt humans anymore, they know it draws too much attention. And even when they do chose to go after humans, they don't lock on to one specifically, they just hunt whichever is closest. They would never track a specific human over long spaces of time or distance. They are not nearly as particular with their human meals as vampires."

"Well I know what I fought, Carlisle. It was a Lycan, a strong one."

"One of the Quileutes?" I asked, feeling ridiculous for even voicing this, but still, I knew that a treaty existed between the Cullens and the so-called werewolves on La Push. I didn't really believe that Jacob Black and his family were werewolves, but the Cullens had never really confirmed this tale one way or the other.

Edward shook his head. "No, not a Quileute. They seldom call on their ancient birthright these days. They almost never metamorphose into their wolf halves. And even if they did, they would never hunt outside the boarders of their own land, and like Carlisle said, normal Lycans never make an effort to hunt one particular human."

"Dylan seemed to think this one _was _after her." I said. Edward looked grim, "I don't understand, I've never heard of such a thing before."

"She isn't a werewolf is she? An enemy one or something?" I asked. I knew she couldn't be a vampire, there'd been far too much blood for that, and she had been clumsy and weak, not at all like a vampire, and her eyes were hazel, not red or gold. Carlisle shook his head, "no, she's definitely human."

"But what are we supposed to do if she really is being stalked by a werewolf?" I asked.

Edward and Carlisle looked at me quizzically, as if my question were not entirely relevant. "It is not up to us. She is injured, and I will look after her until she is healthy, but unless she tells us the whole truth I don't see what we can be expected to do." Carlisle answered.

"But he'll come after her again!" I said this with absolute certainty. I'd seen it in Dylan's eyes, felt it in the way she struggled frantically upon entering the forest and her pleas to leave her and go back- she had been running from this creature for a long time, she knew what it was, and what it wanted, and she knew anyone else who got involved would be hurt. She was just desperate to keep running, she couldn't even stop to rest or get help. I remembered what she'd said about her leg "I stopped to rest…just for a minute… I only just got away…"

"We can't let her go off and wait for it to attack her again. It'll kill her."

Carlisle and Edward looked uncomfortable and conflicted. "Bella, we can't get involved. We don't even know her, and she doesn't even trust us enough to tell us the truth-"

"Who would believe her if she did?" I asked. "I mean, what normal person would believe her when she told them a werewolf was after her? And she doesn't even know what you are! I'm sure if you told her she'd know she could trust us."

"We don't normally go about declaring ourselves as monsters, Bella." Carlisle said evenly. "But we can't just do nothing." I felt like a broken record saying this, but I didn't back down.

"It is her choice, we cannot help her if she does not tell us the truth. And even then, it is a dangerous thing to dive into, we do not know anything about this Lycan or why it has picked Dylan in particular. We don't know how long it has been after her, or even if there is only one, there might be a whole clan after her."

"I thought you said they didn't hunt specific humans."

"They don't! But this wolf clearly isn't following the normal protocol, so we can't assume there aren't others involved."

I glared at Edward, he didn't waver. I knew what they were saying was logical, and I knew it was ridiculous to ask them to put their family at risk in order to protect a complete stranger, but still, I couldn't believe they were prepared to let her walk off to the slaughter. I thought back to the creature in the woods and shivered. There was no way she'd be able to escape that thing, I was amazed she'd managed to outrun it for this long. But it would catch her, if it hadn't been for the Cullens, it would have caught her tonight.

"But we're involved now," I said, gesturing at the girl spread out across from me. "We can't just leave her. She needs our help."

"Then she'll have to ask for it, and she'll have to trust us. If not then we can't offer her any protection, we can't make her stay here. No doubt she intends to run again, and we can't stop her. We need to know what she knows if we want to keep her safe, otherwise sooner or later the Lycan will find a way to get at her here."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter five

Dylan's POV:

I woke up groggy and stiff. The pounding pain in my leg and shoulder had been reduced to a dull ache, and the sting of the gash on my face had all but vanished. I was still on the couch in the clean, brightly lit room of the strangers' house. The two handsome, pale men were still there, as was the dark-haired girl who'd tried to help me. But now there were others as well, people from the field. A soft-looking blond woman in her early twenties, a small, twiggy girl with black hair, a brawny, curly-haired man who looked no older than twenty, a tall angelic blond girl, and a lean man with fair hair.

I let out a sharp breath at the sight of the young blond man. He was the one who had looked at me with murder in his eyes, who had been held back by his fellows and had lunged at me when I fell. I had been too exhausted to move, but I heard his snarl and sensed the movement in front of me.

I wanted to get up, but the remnants of the sedative were still in my system, making me disoriented and slow. I stared at him with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. He no longer looked as if he might strangle me, the mad gleam had gone from his golden eyes, but his stance was still stiff and tensed. The elf-like girl with black hair was holding his hand, but I had no fear of her. He was looking at me, but it was more a look of remorse and discomfort than malevolence. The small girl stood on tiptoe and whispered something in his ear, he looked at her and muttered back, she made a face and gave him a nudge in my direction. He looked deeply uncomfortable, but he focused on me and all at once a feeling of wellbeing and calm washed over me. I assumed it was the sedative still working its way through my bloodstream, and I didn't resist the feeling of relaxation. The man leaned down to my level and looked me full in the face, his golden eyes penetrating and hypnotizing.

"My name is Jasper," he said, his voice as smooth and captivating as those of Carlisle and Edward. "I'm deeply sorry for the misunderstanding that I instigated, it was a horrible mistake and I don't want you to feel ill at ease with me. I assure you it will never happen again. I offer my sincerest apologies." The feeling of calm and good will had spread all through my head, I shook my head at him and waved away his apology with a heavy hand, "it's alright, no harm no fowl, or whatever it is they say…" his mouth twitched and he bowed his head, retreated back to his raven-haired companion.

I looked at them all, these unbelievably beautiful, captivating people, too graceful and angelic to be real. The only one among them who stood out to me as different was Bella. Not that she was not attractive, she was very pretty, but when standing beside these gods it was clear that she was the most human of them all. Her eyes were not the entrancing amber, her skin was not the white of marble, she didn't occasionally move with such lightning-quick proficiency that it was a blur.

I fought the dampening effects of the medicine and tried to work out what it was about these people that was setting off a little bell in my brain. I hadn't seen any of them before tonight, but something about their ethereal beauty and their inhuman strength and speed was familiar. I pursed my lips and tried to pin point it. I had seen others like them before, only their eyes had been ruby red, not topaz gold. I remembered the disconcerting speed, as well as the astounding strength and peculiarly icy body temperature that I had noticed during the flight from the forest, though I had been barely conscious.

Then I suddenly remembered, and it almost drew another gasp from me. I had met two such beings in Los Angeles almost two years ago. One had been a tall, auburn-haired man with blazing garnet eyes that had both frightened and ensnared me. The other was a woman, with curly dark hair and amazingly red lips, she had gazed at me with eyes that showed only cold intent and hunger.

Both had moved with unnerving grace and agility, though there was a predatory slant to their movements, almost feline, like lions contemplating a potential kill. The man had spoken to me, his voice captivating, with a hint of a southern accent, which inserted extra length and syllables into his words. He'd offered me a ride, as it was very late and I was a long way from home. I'd been too entranced by their beauty to notice that they'd moved closer to me and were circling. I'd politely declined, I was waiting for the bus. The man shook his head as if I were being dim and said "but surely you'd rather join us for a walk? It is a lovely night and the walk to the car will be most enjoyable, and we can get you home much more quickly than any bus."

The woman had come even closer, she was breathing in deeply and smiling, "I can almost taste her already, so delectable. One of the most tempting scents I've ever encountered, Charles, isn't it intoxicating?" She'd said it quietly, assuming that I was too caught up in Charles' mesmerizing voice and face to notice, but I caught some of it, and had been too terrified to move, or even scream. I'd tried to step away from them and the man's hand had shot forward with the speed of a bullet and caught my wrist, his grip like a chilled iron shackle, sending goose bumps up my arm, "there, there, my dear. There's no need to be frightened, we shan't hurt you." I'd tried to pull away and the woman took my other arm, and covered my mouth with her hand, "it's all right, child, it will be over soon."

They'd steered me away from the empty bus stop into a side alley, all the while murmuring melodious reassurances in my ears that rendered me passive and mute. When they stopped in the alley they'd bickered over who would get the first "taste." Charles said it was his kill to make because he'd found me in the first place, the woman hissed that he always delivered the death stroke and it was her turn to take the first drink. They had let go of me and were snarling at each other when someone else entered the alley.

It was a tall, lean man wearing simple jeans and t-shirt. He seemed ordinary enough, but he was watching us, and he didn't look at all charmed by their appearances as I had been.

His eyes had locked with mine and for a minute I was lifted out of my enchantment, I stared at him and he stared at me. He'd held out his hand, inviting me closer, I reached for it. Both my captors had stopped their arguing and had their nostrils flared, they growled at him, their backs arched and their teeth bared. "Push off, mongrel." Charles hissed acidly, "this is our catch."

"I believe it's her choice," he'd said coolly, and he'd proffered his hand again, I gave him mine and he squeezed my fingers. His skin wasn't icy the way the others had been, his hand was warm and firm, he pulled me away from the two beauties. They'd moved as if to lunge at us but he let out a roar that made my ears ring, and they'd backed off instantly, still snarling but clearly hesitant to attack him.

He'd pulled me out of the alley and into the main street, but he didn't let go of my hand. I was frightened of him, but I felt safer than I had with the two hypnotic strangers. He'd stared into my eyes as if he were trying to read my thoughts, he held on to my one hand and with this other he pushed a lock of hair out of my face. His touch sent a current of electricity sparking under my skin. "What's your name?" he asked quietly, not breaking eye contact with me. "Dylan," I'd answered breathlessly, unable to take my eyes off his, they were the most amazing shade of green I'd ever seen, not at all chilling or hungry the way Charles' had been. "I'm Jordan," he said, his soft voice like honey.

Vampires. That's what I'd later learned the two pale beauties in the alley were. And that was what the Cullens were, I realized. I couldn't believe I'd forgotten. That night I had so nearly been killed by two wandering vampires in the city was the first time I met Jordan. I gazed at the family before me and felt everything click into place. These were different from the ones I'd encountered in LA, they did not feed on humans, but rather on animal blood. Jordan told me that such groups existed, but were extremely rare, and that the biggest difference in their appearances from those of normal vampires was the color of their eyes.

That explained Jasper's threatening behavior. The blood from my injuries must have set him off. I felt a fresh jolt of fear run through me as I thought of what might have happened if the others had not been there to restrain him. I dimly wondered how Carlisle could stand to treat my wounds without being overcome with the thirst for blood, but I had no answer.

I felt a peculiar combination of fear and security. On the one hand my meeting with Jordan and the two vampires in the alley had instilled in me a just fear in vampires, and under normal circumstances I would have been terrified that so many were so close to me. But these were not human-killers as most others were, they would not deliberately hurt me. From the way they had protected and helped me, I could tell they meant me no harm, and I could tell they were well adapted to ignoring their craving for human blood, judging from the familiarity they seemed to have with Bella. Jasper's lapse was caused not by weakness, but by the large amount of fresh blood at close range, which was my fault, not his.

I closed my eyes and tried to sift through all the thoughts and information percolating in my head. I could not believe I had stumbled upon a coven of vampires in my flight from the creature that had been hunting me for months. It was a horrible irony that in fleeing a werewolf I had found salvation in a group of vampires, who were the natural enemies of all Lycans.

I bit my lip at the thought of my pursuer. I willed myself not to let my mind turn to that, but I couldn't stop thinking about him. It had been too close this time, he had so nearly caught me. I covered my face with my hands, trying to fight back the fear and grief that struggled to rise. I couldn't keep this up, I didn't have the strength to run now, and I had nowhere to go. I couldn't take shelter with these people, kind though they were, I suspected they wouldn't want to get in the way of a vicious werewolf and his prey. It was not their job to protect me, and I couldn't ask them to. Soon I would have to go on the run again, and the whole mad chase would resume, with me even weaker than before.

What if he came for me here? In this large, warm house I felt safe and protected. There were other people, and not just normal people, but compassionate and formidable vampires, which would be a force for any Lycan to reckon with. Yes, I felt safe here, but what if I wasn't? How could I be? I'd thought I was safe in Seattle, and look what had happened there, I had let my guard down and as a result had nearly had my leg torn off. I reached down and touched my calf, gently tracing the shape of the bandage.

I looked back again at my first meeting with Jordan. When he'd rescued me from the two vampires in that alley I would never have dreamed he might one day be hunting me up and down the west coast, putting all his energy into finding me and tearing me to shreds. And the worst of it was, even though I knew how horribly my life had spiraled out of my control, I couldn't bring myself to regret all of it. I was afraid of him, yes, more afraid than I could have ever imagined, but I still cared about him. That's why you're in this fix now, a little voice in my head chided. If you'd accepted how dangerous he was when you first met him, if you'd accepted that you could never be together, you would still be back in LA now, and none of this would have ever happened.

But I'd never want him cut out of my life like that! I yelled at the voice. He cares about me…

-Sure he cares about you, just not as much as he wants to kill you.

-But I care about him…

-Enough to stay with him and risk being slaughtered in your sleep?

-Shut up!

I rolled over and curled up in a ball, closed my eyes. I knew that Bella and the Cullens had left the room, I was alone with my thoughts and the heavy, accusatory silence.

It was preposterous, it was unnatural, it was doomed to fail, so why had I gotten myself into this horrible mess?

Because you thought he loved you…damn that little voice, I was going to have to take a power drill to my head to shut it up.

-And you thought you loved him…

-We _were_ in love! I insisted angrily.

-Were?

-I mean-I don't- it's different now…

-Of course it is, because you've finally realized that nature will never allow this to be. You are a human and he is a monster, it is his nature to kill you.

-We can fight nature, he can change, it's not all about instinct, he has a choice-

-And it seems he's already made it.


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's note: I realize this chapter is super short, but I didn't want to cram in too much, this way it builds up the suspense and sets the feeling for the next chapter, wink wink. Hope you enjoy anyway, and please don't yell at me for not writing a lot. Please review!_

Chapter six

Dylan's POV:

I sensed the presence standing beside me more than I actually heard or felt it. I was struggling my way through the viscous matters of my nightmares when all at once wakefulness returned to me with the force of a bulldozer. My eyes snapped open and I sat bolt upright on the couch, which sent a wave of pain through my shoulder, my hand lashed out into the darkness, grasping for the silent presence I knew was hovering there. I made contact with something solid, heard a grunt of pain, and felt strong fingers grab my wrist. Again I lashed out, trying to break their hold, I opened my mouth to yell. Another hand pressed against my lips, covering the stillborn scream, and a voice that sent a rush of adrenaline and panic through my head hissed, "Dylan, stop, it's me!"

I seized this momentary distraction and wrenched my arm out of his hold, bit down on the hand covering my mouth. Another small cry of pain issued from the blackness in front of me, I jumped up from the couch and nearly fell back, the sudden movement sending my head spinning. The muscles of my arm and leg screamed in protest as the movement sent needles of pain shooting through my injuries, but I ignored it, feeling dizzy. I darted in the direction of the doorway, smacking into the tall form of my assailant, and would have fallen back had he not gripped my waist and steadied me. I scrambled at the pockets of my jeans, drew out four thick bands of silver, slid them onto my fingers. The rings weren't much protection, but they were pure silver, and if I hit him with them the metal might repel him for a minute, giving me a chance to get away. "Dylan, please stop, just listen to me!"

"Let go!" I raised my fist but his night vision was much better than mine, he saw this movement immediately, seized my arm. "Dylan, please, I'm not going to hurt you!"

"Let go!" I repeated, twisting my wrist, he didn't loosen his hold. "Dylan, look, I'm human, human! I'm not going to hurt you!"

"Le-what?" I stopped my struggling for a second, took stock of the situation. The hand that gripped mine was a man's hand, with long, strong fingers and calloused palms, as was the hand that still held my waist. When I'd lashed out I'd hit a muscled chest, the voice that spoke was the familiar one, untainted by the gravely, canine growl I had grown to fear. He was human, for the moment. But that didn't make him any less dangerous, at any moment he could transform, and I would be dead before I could even scream.

I knew this, but I didn't do anything. He was human, I trusted his human side, against my better judgment my guard was relaxing, though my instinct screamed at me to yell for help, to fight with all the strength I had left to escape, but my mind wouldn't let the order reach my limbs. It wasn't the human side I'd been fleeing for months, the human side was the one that had saved me in that alley years ago…

"I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered again, his grip relaxing on my arm now that I had frozen. "What are you doing here?" I breathed, struggling to keep the hysterical panic out of my voice. He wasn't going to attack me, not in his human form-not yet.

"I came for you, I came to see you."

"You followed me here?"

"Not right away, I was tired and hurt, that vampire in the woods- I was too weak to keep my shape, I fell back into myself. I followed your scent here. I waited until you were asleep and bandaged up, I didn't want to scare you…"

"How considerate," I said, my voice cracking.

"Can we talk outside? I don't want your friends to attack me,"

"Jordan, I can't…"

"Please, Dylan, trust me, just for a few minutes." His voice was already lulling me into a false sense of security, I was already being drawn into the past, forgetting that the man whispering assurances to me could at any moment rip my throat out in the blink of an eye. Half of me fought the desire to be with him, shrieking in my head that I was walking to the slaughter, but the other half was flooded with nostalgia and ghostly memories, long-buried emotions and desires struggling their way to the surface. The nostalgia won out, I couldn't entirely suppress the dormant trust I had in him, despite what had become of us. I nodded, feeling as if I were agreeing to my own execution, but feeling powerless to stop it.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter seven

Dylan's POV:

I followed Jordan out of the Cullens' house into the cool air and velvety darkness of the front yard. I kept my distance and he watched me as I walked, but there was no look of hunger or malice in his face, only curiosity, and relief that I'd agreed to come. "The sun will be rising soon." He said, indicating the line of violet along the eastern skyline. I glanced at it, then up at the half-moon sinking in the sky, I looked back at my companion again.

There was a time when I only had to fear him for the few nights of the full moon, but now he was a danger at any time, and had been for almost a year now… I shook my head to dislodge that painful memory. Jordan came up behind me and touched my arm hesitantly, I whipped around and nearly overbalanced, my leg shook in protest as I strained my injured calf. He caught my elbow and set me on my feet again, smiling to himself. I smiled a little as well, but it faded when I remembered where I was, what I was doing. I stepped away from him and asked seriously "why are you here, Jordan?"

"I wanted to see you." He said, his voice earnest, "I've missed you." He held out his hand to me, a silent invitation to come closer, to trust him, just like when we'd first met. But this time I didn't reach for it. I wanted to trust him, I _did_ trust him, but I was hesitant, I couldn't forget why I was here, what he'd done. I wanted to take his hand, but I couldn't. I looked away from him and stared down at the grass under my feet. "Don't do this, Jordan." I said quietly. He moved closer, closing the gap I'd refused to bridge, "do what?"

"Don't… push this."

"Why not?" he took hold of my hand, and I didn't pull it away from him. He put his other hand on my cheek and turned my face to his, held my gaze with his intense green eyes. "I've missed you so much," he said softly, he paused, frowned, looked at me with a plea in his eyes.

"Do you hate me?"

"Jordan, it's not like that-"

"Do you still love me?"

I took in a deep breath, feeling as if there were a shard of glass somewhere between my heart and my vocal cords that I was afraid to dislodge. The truth would only complicate things, but I'd never been able to lie to him…

"I'm not sure." I said, my voice barely above a whisper. His hand flinched for a moment, as if I'd burned him, but his eyes were still full of longing and fascination. He wanted to soak up everything, everything I said, every movement, even if it hurt him.

It had always been like that, he could never take his eyes off me, everything I did was a source of profound interest to him; the way I combed my hair, the way I moved my hands when I talked, the way I laughed. He'd once told me he'd be happy to sit and watch me for the rest of his life, just study every aspect of my being, he said the day he understood me completely would be the day he had nothing left to live for. I'd never fully understood that, but he told me he'd hate it if there were nothing left to learn about me, if he figured everything out and I never changed or revealed something new. He said he liked the way I dazzled him with something new everyday, that I never stopped growing. That had made me nervous, like one day he would figure out everything there was to know, and I would become boring to him. When I'd voiced this he'd laughed and said it would be impossible for him to ever be bored with me.

Remembering this sent a blush of shame to my cheeks. I regretted my answer, it didn't seem to grasp the complexity of how I felt, it was too simple a term, he couldn't understand just from that.

"It's not that I don't still…" I began hastily, stopped, took a breath, "it's just different now." I said more quietly.

" I know, you don't have to explain." He said.

"I'm just afraid of you, you can understand that can't you?"

He nodded, took his hand away from my cheek, now I felt like the one who had been burned. "I'm sorry I've done this to you." He said, his voice full of self-loathing and regret. "I got myself involved," I said faintly, "and we can work around it, I mean, look at us now."

He looked at me with a sad smile, "Dylan, I never thought we would end up like this… when I met you I never wanted-"

"I know," I said, then shook my head. "I must have been out of my mind to think I could do this," I said wistfully. He came closer, cupped my face with both his hands. "We both were." He said sincerely.

I raised my hand hesitantly and touched his face, tracing the fine contour of his cheek, gliding down to his neck. "Mmm," he hummed contentedly, closed his eyes, "that tickles."

I stood on tiptoe and inched closer, his eyes were still closed, I touched my lips to his ever so lightly, and he pressed his mouth harder against mine, deepening the kiss. His hands slid down my face and circled my neck, their warm weight sending waves of pleasure through my body. I had forgotten how wonderful it was to kiss him; it had been so long since I was able to be this close to him without fear. I knew I should be afraid still, whatever had made him revert back to his human shape could wear off at any moment, he could slide his mouth down to my neck and slit my jugular vein in a second, I might not even feel it. But I had forgotten all that, all I could concentrate on was how soft his lips were, how delicious his kiss was.

He had pulled me closer; my torso was pressed to his hard chest, my fingers slid over the muscled curves of his back. He drew his lips away from mine and made his way down my cheek to my jaw line, then to the side of my neck. He kissed this tender spot gently; I let out a blissful sigh. At this moment it was possible to forget everything that had happened between us, it was possible to ignore the dull ache of my injuries and the cause of them, I could forget that I was standing in a vampire's front yard, in the middle of no where, driven here by fear of the very man I was now kissing. It all fell away, and I felt the way I had before it had all gone so wrong.

Then I felt Jordan tense, his grip on me tightened suddenly, I felt his teeth graze my skin and he drew his mouth away sharply. He looked strained and horrified, I took a step backwards. "I'm sorry," he said, stepping back as well, his whole body rigid. I raised my fingers to my neck and felt the small scrape, he hadn't broken the skin but I was trembling. He was looking at me with immeasurable regret and anguish, I couldn't look away. Despair was flooding my chest, causing my breath to catch, crushing the feeling of wellbeing and happiness, throwing me back into harsh reality. "We can't do this," I whispered painfully, my throat constricting.

"It was an accident," he said, his voice imploring, "I just-I didn't mean-"

"Please don't, Jordan, just stop…"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter eight

Dylan's POV:

(Two years ago…)

"Come on," Jordan said, stepping a little back from me, breaking the charged connection between our eyes, and making it possible for me to breath again. He still held my hand, but gently now, holding it just for the sake of touching me, not so much for protection. His hand was much larger than mine, and he stood at least a head taller than me, though I had always been tall for my age. He'd looked older than he actually was from afar, but up close I could see the youth in his face, it wasn't innocent, there was the grim weight of experience in the set of his mouth and the depth of his eyes, but his face was unlined, smooth, animated.

He looked only a few years older than me, sixteen at most, with a lean build and broad shoulders. His straight, mahogany hair was long in the front, as if he hadn't had a chance to get it cut in some time, and it fell into his eyes, making it difficult to gauge his expression. His oval face was pale and perfectly structured; straight nose, generous soft mouth, high cheekbones. But these all paled in comparison to his brilliantly green, almond-shaped eyes. I couldn't stop staring at them; I'd never seen eyes so entrancing, so vividly colored.

"I have to go home…" I said vaguely, gesturing with my free hand toward the empty bus stop. It was close to two in the morning, my mother would be home, she would be panicking. "You can't go anywhere alone tonight," he told me seriously, giving my hand a gentle tug. I followed him across the street, to a dark sports car parked halfway up on the curb. "This is yours?" I asked, gazing incredulously at the shinning, muscular shape of the vehicle before me. "For the moment," he answered coolly, pulling the door open with a sharp snap, holding it open for me. I got into the passenger seat, still too dazed and numb to think to question why the car's alarm was going off, or why the locks were still on as he yanked the opposite door open and got in beside me, turning off the wailing alarm with a decisive click. He fiddled about under the dashboard for a moment, then sat up as the car's ignition purred to life, the locks clicked off and he pulled away effortlessly from the sidewalk, got onto the road and pushed down on the gas, increasing our speed to 65 in a matter of seconds.

He was driving towards midtown LA, shooting past the slower automobiles trudging along behind us and pushing the needle of the speedometer up another few miles. I gazed out at the blurring brightness of the city, slowly regaining my self-possession and recovering from the stunned, bemused state that I had reverted to during my near-murder and rescue. I glanced over at my savior again, at his large, pale hands gripping the steering wheel firmly, manipulating the powerful vehicle with pinpoint precision.

"I really do need to go home," I said quietly, not wanting to sound pushy or childish after he'd helped me so, but all too aware that my neurotic mother might call the police soon. He didn't look away from the road in font of him and answered calmly, "I told you, I can't let you go off on your own tonight, they'll come looking for you again. If you're alone, they'll kill you on sight." I suppressed a shiver and didn't protest, he'd made an excellent point, assuming he knew what he was talking about, which I believed he did. This sparked another question.

'Why did they want me?" I asked, my curiosity mingling with the fear in my voice. He raised his eyebrows slightly, as if I'd said something comical that he found funny, but given the circumstances he didn't want to give voice to his amusement. "Their kind is often drawn to young, tender humans. They prefer to hunt innocents, it gives them a certain thrill," he made a disgusted face, "and I would bet your scent made you especially appetizing to them, they had their pick of any wandering human, but you smelled so enticing, they couldn't ignore it." He paused, the corners of his mouth turned down, he seemed to think he'd let slip too much.

I leaned back against the cool leather of my seat and sat very still, though I felt a thrill of excitement crackle through my limbs at his words. It was infused with equal parts curiosity and alarm. As he spoke a small, muffled voice called out into the greater fog that had settled in my brain, alerting me to the fact that he was speaking in a most peculiar and alarming fashion. He's referring to you like you're something to eat, the voice squeaked frantically, there's something off about him, something dangerous, don't trust him! I heard the voice, like a mosquito buzzing in my ear, but it was not strong enough to counter my fascination. Look beyond the face! The voice implored, can't you feel there's something strange about him, something not quite human? He's as dangerous as they were, snap out of it!

But I couldn't snap out of it, even if I'd wanted to. I was dimly aware that I should be just as frightened by my savior as by the two murderers in the alley, but I couldn't force this thought into action. He'd saved me, if it weren't for him I'd be dead already, a limp corpse crumpled in the gutter. And yes, some sixth sense assured me there was something strange about him, something sinister even, but it was not directed at me. He was being kind to me, and his face was so lovely and his voice so soothing, and there was something so fascinating about the words he spoke and the way they made his eyes flicker with intense brightness…

I couldn't resist the draw he exerted, l was hooked. My sluggish, stunned mind was impervious to the warnings my intuition was sending; all I could focus on was the stranger before me.

"My scent?" l repeated, poorly disguising my bafflement.

"Yes," he answered shortly, apparently now determined not to reveal more information than was absolutely necessary. I wouldn't have that. "What do you mean by scent?"

He glanced at me, his face unreadable, he turned back to the road again, "I mean your specific smell, like your fingerprints, its characteristic of you in particular. It's what they lock on to when they hunt. The more fragrant the smell, the more enticing the human, at least from their point of view." I looked down at my hands, raised them to my face and breathed in slightly, "I don't smell anything."

His mouth twitched a little. "Your sense of smell isn't strong enough to pick it up." He said dryly. I fixed my eyes on his profile. "And yours is?" The smile faded from his lips and his brow knotted in discontent.

"Yes," he muttered, almost too low to hear. I didn't look away from him. "What does it smell like? My scent, I mean,"

He turned to me with a look of incredulity, his mouth opened, closed, his eyebrows were raised in disbelief. "You want to know what you smell like to me?" I nodded. But I was just as shocked as he was. What was I doing? The little voice was getting even more shrill in my ear. You're asking him how you smell, how appetizing are you? Do you want to be torn apart?

But some overpowering urge was taking hold of me, a desire to understand everything about those people in the alley, and about Jordan. I had inadvertently stumbled upon something way outside the realm of normal, and now I was desperate to know more. I needed to understand what it was about Jordan that set my nerves buzzing and my neck prickling, what was this invisible aura of strangeness about him, this sense of power, danger, almost a supernatural feel?

A part of me willed me away from this unknown, warned me that whatever this was, it was best left alone, that it would be dangerous to get involved any further. But I felt myself being helplessly drawn toward the precipice of the mystery, I had to get a grasp on this bizarre secret, I couldn't let it lie.

Jordan shook his head in astonishment, and looked away from me, out his window, pulling the car to the side smoothly and parking neatly beside the pavement. He turned off the ignition and looked at me again, ready to change the subject.

"Please tell me," I said beseechingly, my eyes wide with compelling curiosity. He shook his head again, blinked in discomfort and skepticism, "you can't possibly want to know, I mean, what does it matter?"

I shrugged, I didn't know myself. "I just want to understand. I think I have a right to know…" I trailed off, what was the matter with me? Couldn't I just accept that the two in the alley were deranged murderers and move on? Most people would be terrified out of their wits, the last thing they'd be doing would be wheedling their rescuers for more details about their would-be killers.

Jordan appeared to be debating, he understood I wasn't going to let it drop, but he was very hesitant to reveal the truth. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and said, "it's like honeysuckle, and pomegranate and rain…" he trailed off, "it's difficult to describe. Somehow more potent than most human's, its lovely…" He opened his eyes and looked at me questioningly, unsure of whether he'd alarmed me with his honesty. I felt a fresh thrill of excitement coarse through me, but I wasn't very frightened. I knew I should be, but the fear couldn't manifest itself as it desired, my enthrallment was too powerful.

"Will you tell me what they were…what you are," I didn't finish; afraid I'd insulted him by openly inferring that he was not human. He went rigid as I spoke, but he didn't look away from me. He thought for a moment, frowning.

"I don't know," he said hesitantly, "do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

I shrugged, "I'm caught up in it now, whatever it is, I mean, I'm here with you… I just want to understand this, I don't know why."

Jordan looked half fascinated, half puzzled, and clearly cautious. "You'll be frightened. It's not something normal people know about, it's not something you should be involved in."

"I'm already involved."

He bit his lip. "Maybe," he said at last, still looking indecisive. "But first you need something to eat, you've had a shock, the food will help calm you down."

"I am calm," I said, though the jumpiness was still buzzing in my legs. He smiled a little. "When the body goes into shock it requires nourishment. You need the energy. Then you can ask your questions."

"Alright."

He got out of the car and I followed, glancing at the door as I climbed out. Several metal pieces appeared twisted and broken, proving my hunch that Jordan had forced the door open without hindrance from the lock mechanisms that resisted. I wondered vaguely how much effort it would take a normal person to try to prize open a locked car door, then followed Jordan along the street to the lighted front of a small restaurant. He held the door open for me and followed me inside silently.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter nine

Dylan's POV:

(Present tense…)

Jordan made as if to reach out and touch me, but his arm dropped limply to his side in anguish, his eyes were huge and full of torment, it wrenched my heart in two just looking at him. I was still trembling, it didn't escape his notice of course, he missed nothing. "Oh, Dylan…" he voice was saturated with pain, he looked appalled and horrified. "Please stop, please…it was an accident, Dylan, please don't be frightened." I tried to stop the trembling, forced the tears back from the corners of my eyes, I didn't want him to look so upset, I wanted him to leave, I wanted to go back to kissing him again, I wanted to cry.

To my dismay I felt the traitorous tears prickling my eyes, rolling down my checks like tiny pearls in the glow of the moon. I knew he saw them, he reached toward me again, and I instinctively recoiled, he looked stung.

"Please don't cry." He whispered anxiously, letting his hand fall to his side again. "What can I do to make this better, Dylan? Please, tell me what you want me to do, tell me how to fix this!" he said desperately.

"I can't" I said brokenly, hating myself for not knowing how to answer his pleas, hating him for making me ache this way, hating fate for dealing us such a cruel hand. I wanted him to be able to fix what was wrong, I wanted to be able to tell him how to solve these problems, I wanted to step back into the past, back into the blissful lull we'd fallen into a moment before, back into the closeness and the warmth and the kiss.

"Jordan, you can't fix this…" I said hoarsely, my breath hitching as the tears continued to fall. "we can't do this, we can't-it's too late. It's too dangerous, too complicated, we can't escape this." I felt as if I were pulling open the bandages of my wounds and bearing the barely cauterized gashes to the harsh wind, the pain that pierced me was so potent. It was a physical sting, like acid on my tongue.

"But I can keep it under control, Dylan, I swear I can, I won't hurt you. I'm safe now, we're safe now-"

"Now!" I repeated somewhat shrilly, feeling tedious and pathetic, but I couldn't keep the biting criticism out of my voice. "Now, Jordan? How can that be enough? Maybe you are fine now, maybe that was just a momentary slip, maybe you've got it under control. And that's great for now, that's fantastic!" I didn't mean to be sarcastic, but thoughts were no longer connected to words, I felt hysterical as my voice rose.

"But what about tomorrow, or the next day, or the next full moon, or a year from now? Will you still be safe then? We can't live like that, _I_ can't! We can be together for the moment, but it can't last, it's not real if it can't last. A moment's no good, Jordan, and all we have is moments, we can't even have that anymore, look what just happened!" I was so fired up I was shouting now.

"How can we be together? How can I trust you, when every second I know you're fighting the impulse to rip my throat out? How can you even ask me to trust you, when you know how dangerous this is! You make it better, and then you make it worse! Every time I think I'm alright, you come around again, and tear my heart out for another round!

We are doomed, one of us will always end up hurt, and it's almost always me! So why are you making this harder than it already is? Why do we keep throwing ourselves into disaster?"

I knew I was over reacting. He hadn't even hurt me, it had been an accident. But my mind couldn't digest that, I had been drawn into a sense of nostalgia and temporary happiness, and now the pain was coming back, twice as strong as before, I was booted from heaven into the mud of the real world.

I had been pushed to my breaking point, now all of my pain was flooding out in one great tidal wave. Maybe it was the loss of blood that made me so hostile, or the lack of the drowsy contentment induced by the sedative, or maybe it was just having him here in his human form, a form I didn't fear, so I felt that I had to get it all out while I still could. I was frightened by my own bitterness, it was stronger than I had thought possible, it flowed in my veins like vinegar, made my eyes sting with tears and my throat swell with desperation.

I don't think I'd ever yelled at him like that before, I felt horrible for blaming him, for throwing all my resentment and frustration in his face because I couldn't handle it anymore. But at the same time it was such a relief, it gave me such satisfaction. For months I'd had this anguish and disappointment bottled up inside me, and now for some reason it was manifesting itself as blazing anger and animosity, now I was throwing the burden to Jordan. Let him carry the weight around for a while, let it eat away at his heart like a termite colony for the next few months, and see how he felt. Why did he do this to me? Why did he take my heart like a paper doll and tear it to shreds whenever the chance arose? I was so angry, so angry I didn't understand myself, I didn't know whom my grief was directed at, or where it stemmed from anymore.

I'd burned myself out, I couldn't summon words anymore, now I was just crying, and Jordan's mouth was open as if he wanted to speak but couldn't find words, he looked as if I'd just spit at him, he simply couldn't process the venom and rage of my words.

"Is that what you really think?" He said harshly, mingled grief and indignation making his voice low and gruff. "You really think I'm doing this to you out of-out of sport? Because I like to jerk you around, toy with your emotions and draw you out so the kill will be more, what, climactic, enjoyable?"

His voice was louder now too, his eyes burned. I didn't remember saying these things exactly, and I felt as if he'd slapped me. But at the same time I knew this was what I'd been implying, that was what I'd been thinking, behind the desperate rage there was uncontrollable resentment and irrational suspicion, I may not have said it like that, but there was no difference between his tantrum and mine. I couldn't answer, I felt myself torn in ways I couldn't understand.

And then there was a blur of movement, almost too fast to distinguish in the darkness, and something with the speed and force of a bullet was rocketing toward us.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter ten

Dylan's POV:

Jordan stopped talking immediately, his senses, so much more sensitive than mine, alerted him to the form speeding towards us as soon as it broke from the cover of the forest. He turned in a lightning-quick movement, his whole body tensed, he set his feet apart, meeting it head on. The two collided with a crash and he slid backwards a few inches, driven by the momentum of the attacker, but stood firm, repelling the new comer back several feet with the force of a cannon.

I froze, my eyes flew to the figure Jordan had thrown back, I glimpsed white skin and bronze-colored hair, he turned his face to me, his amber eyes locked with mine. Oh no. He looked away from me and growled in the direction of my companion, leaping to his feet in a movement too fast to catch, his fists and jaws clenched.

Jordan let loose a menacing, guttural snarl, crouched down low in a predatory stance, his whole body began to shake uncontrollably, as if he were having a seizure. "Jordan stop!" I yelled, but he didn't even look at me. Thick, dark hair was spreading down his face and arms, his fingernails were elongating at a sickening rate, his body was lengthening. I seized his arm and wrenched it hard, trying to swing him away from the vampire. He glanced at me fleetingly, his pupils were dilating, he didn't seem to recognize me anymore. "Jordan, please!" For a second there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes, but then it vanished, replace with a sudden chilling hunger. I let go of him immediately, stepped back as quickly as I could, tripping over my own feet and falling down with a wince of pain as my tender shoulder struck the ground.

As I landed he lunged, his warped, clawed hands seizing my throat. I couldn't breathe, I felt the claws pierce my skin, felt the throb of pain in my arm and leg as his weight crushed my injuries against the ground. I raised my arms instinctively to try to unclench his grip on my neck, sobbing for air as he lowered his serrated teeth. My body jerked at the sudden crash against my side as Edward struck the wolf on top of me. Jordan roared, lifted his head a fraction and snapped at his enemy. I raised my clenched fist and struck as hard as I could at the glowing green eye above me. He snarled in pain as the hefty metal of my rings drew blood, the solid silver searing him and making him release his grip. Edward tore him away from me and I rolled onto my side, coughing as I tried to regain my breath and scrambling to my feet.

Another blurred white figure had come from the house and flew into the fray, striking the werewolf from behind as it battled with the first vampire. Jordan bellowed in savage rage, twisting to slash at the new opponent, who was much larger than the first, equal to his werewolf size and strength. Edward and his brother struggled with the wolf as he writhed and snarled, clenching his jaws on Edward's raised arm and making him scream with pain. The werewolf's baleful green gaze flew to me, his nostrils flared, with another ragged howl he released Edward's forearm and attempted to spring for me. The other two held him back and I stumbled away another few paces, towards the woods, my instincts telling me I had to make for the forest. In the past my best chance for escape had been to seek out running water, which werewolves could not cross. The panic was flooding my brain, extinguished logic, I didn't register that the house would be the safest place to run to, pure instinct and past experience directed me now.

I heard another chilling howl and twisted to look back behind me. Jordan had thrown Edward's brother several feet away, and was now making for me, only slightly hindered by the much smaller form of the vampire. With a snarl he smacked Edward hard across the head, a blow that would have crushed a normal person's skull, but Edward merely looked dazed and disoriented. In this moment of weakness the wolf broke his hold and with another massive clout sent him flying, he landed crumpled on the grass near his brother, and did not get up.

I felt faint with over exertion and fear, I didn't think I could move even if I wanted to. I knew I could not hope to outrun him in my current state, and I knew the rings would be of little use against him. He stalked toward me, his pace slowed now that his assailants were beaten. I wouldn't have believed he could overpower two full-grown vampires, but he always seemed to pull out another horrifying trick just when I thought I had him all figured out. Apparently he was stronger than I'd imagined.

I felt as if the air was quickly draining from my lungs, and I was incapable of refilling them. Perhaps I would suffocate to death before he reached me, that would be less painful surely. He had closed the distance between us, he circled, his snout raised, tasting the air, smelling the aroma of the fresh blood oozing from the cuts on my neck, the barely covered scent of my bandaged wounds. He moved in a little closer and I jerked back instinctively, the sudden movement made his growl, he bared his elongated teeth. I took another panicked step backwards, the muscles in my legs vying to run, but I couldn't. I knew it would come to nothing, I was weak and he was at his full strength, I'd be struck down in two seconds flat.

He moved in again, leaned toward me and sniffed at my bandaged leg hungrily, his red tongue extended out to lick his teeth. I stepped back, he snapped his jaws and reared back onto his two back legs, towering over me. "Please stop," I whispered, my voice small and hoarse, I couldn't think what else to say to him, I knew his mind no longer registered my words. "Jordan, please…"

There was no flicker of recognition in those malevolent green eyes. All traces of his humanity had fled, leaving only ravenous hunger and a disturbing cold intelligence, the intelligence that told him to not just hunt any passing creature, the manic, animal cunning that locked on to me alone.

With a sudden, blurred movement he batted me down into the dirt, striking a blow across my face that jarred my teeth. I went down with a thud and smacked my head hard against a stone, blood trickled down my face and soaked into the gauze of the bandage on my cheek. Through my paralyzing fear I vaguely wondered if I might die of blood loss before he had a chance to finish me off properly. At the rate it was seeping out of me this week I didn't think I had much left in my circulation.

I tried to get up and felt strong, thorny claws crushing my back, felt the hot breath on my ear as the creature leaned its jaws low toward my neck. My fingers scrabbled in the dirt desperately, they met the jagged edge of the rock I'd hit. Without thinking I gripped it and, with the frantic strength and speed born of pure terror, lifted it and smashed it as hard as I could against the side of his head.

He yowled in pain and shock and fell to the side, blood blooming from the gash above his eye, muddling his vision. I rushed to my feet and started running, ignoring the screaming pain in my calf and pouring every last drop of energy I had left into my sprint.

"Dylan!" involuntarily I skidded to a stop, caught off guard by the plaintive tone of the familiar human voice. I spun around and stared at the spot a few yards away where only moments before the ferocious six-foot tall werewolf had tried to tear me to shreds. Now there was a crumpled thin form, with shaggy dark hair, the remnants of clothing visible clinging to his pale limbs.

"Dylan," he called again, his voice rasping the way it always was after he transformed. He was looking at me, blood dripping down the side of his face, his eyes unfocused. He was always worn out and disoriented when he reverted back to his human shape, he didn't make a move to get up. "Dylan please don't go…" he said feebly, spitting the blood from his mouth.

I wanted to run back, guilt and concern twined around my legs like a stimulating vine, urging me to go to him. But I knew this could be a trap. He was smart, smarter than any normal wolf, he could easily be pretending to be sapped of his energy, when in reality he was ready to pounce on me in his canine form at any moment. I couldn't have hit him that hard, could I? He couldn't be too badly hurt, it wasn't worth the risk of go near him, after all he'd given me much worse in the past, and I'd managed to drag myself on. He'd survive.

"Dylan I'm sorry." He said wretchedly, his voice low, I could barely hear him… "please don't hate me-please don't leave again…" his eyes closed, he slumped back on the grass, his hand still covering his forehead, blood trickling between his fingers. I took a hesitant step toward him and felt a sudden jerk on my arm, without thinking I whipped my hand back and punched as hard as I could, trying to rip my arm free, then I stopped, realizing who it was.

"Ouch, silver." Jasper muttered, rubbing his unbruised ivory cheek. "What are you doing?" I said frantically, again uneasily aware of the fresh blood at my throat. "Helping you. We heard the noise inside, Emmett said he'd handle it, and Edward was taking Bella home-"

"He came back, he came from the woods."

"Yes, we saw him. That's why Emmett went to help. But apparently the two of them weren't enough to beat whatever attacked you."

"He didn't attack me!" I said somewhat shrilly, "they attacked each other."

"Of course, you were just a by-stander. That explains the cuts on your neck."

"He tried to-he didn't-I-" I couldn't find words, I felt as if I might break down in hysterics at any moment.

"Let's have Carlisle look at those," he gestured to my neck, "I'm fine." I said hastily, trying to regain some composure. "I sincerely doubt that. Come on, you're safe now, you can rest inside." Before I could protest he lifted me off the ground and flew to the house. I glimpsed Edward and Emmett approaching the still form of Jordan sprawled near the trees. Part of me wanted to scream to them to leave him alone, scream for him to run. I shut my eyes and grit my teeth in defiance, smothering the impulse, trying to shake the feeling of sorrow and guilt, feeling as if I'd betrayed him in some way I couldn't grasp.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter eleven

Dylan's POV:

Jasper's face was clenched as he carried me into the house, he leaned his head back slightly and turned his eyes away from mine. I could tell the blood had him on edge, but we were already through the door, close enough for his family to restrain him if he lost control, which I didn't think he would, so I didn't say anything. Him thirsting after my blood seemed like the least of my problems at the moment.

"Are you determined to bleed yourself dry tonight?" Carlisle asked exasperatedly as Jasper laid me down on the same couch as before and his father came forward with his medical bag. I sat up as soon as he let go of me and tried to stand, but Carlisle pushed down on my shoulder and asked dryly, "Where do you think you're running off to?"

"what are they going to do to him?" I demanded, trying to shrug off the doctor's hand, it was like a statue's grip. "To whom?" Carlisle asked coolly, turning my face toward him with firm, cold fingers and gently prodding at the cut on my forehead, clearing away the blood smeared on my cheek. I wouldn't sit still for him; I tried to turn my face toward the huge windows facing the front yard.

"To…" I stopped, how could I explain this? No way could I openly confess that I was intimately involved with the werewolf that had just attacked two of their family members, that it was my fault he had come here at all, nor could I explain the whole messy past I shared with my hunter. Surely they'd turn me out as soon as I finished, once they realized how insane and dangerous I was, and I hardly knew them, what if they were going to hurt him? I knew that vampires and werewolves were sworn enemies, and had been since the dawn of their existence, and I didn't know if being peaceful, vegetarian vampires would keep them from acting on this ancient enmity.

I didn't want to leave this place, I was safe here, these people were helping me, I needed their help, at least until I regained my strength. But I couldn't let them hurt Jordan, it was my fault he was here, in a perverse sort of way I was responsible for him, and despite what he'd done, I shuddered to think of any harm coming to him. I couldn't help both of us, that was the painful truth of it. Whatever I did to help him would only hurt me in the long run, but I cared about him too much to stand aside and let him walk into danger.

"To the boy out on the lawn," I finished, regretting speaking at all. In my panic I'd slipped up, revealed that I knew him, that I cared about him, though it was a subtle clue, perhaps they wouldn't pick up on it. But now that I'd began the question I wanted it answered, I just hoped it wouldn't cost me too much. "You mean the one who attacked you?" Carlisle didn't look up from my neck as he asked this, I gave an involuntary shudder. "Yes."

"Edward and Emmett are bringing him inside. He looked rather unhealthy; I will have to have a look at him. We'll have to put him somewhere where he will not be a danger to anyone, then we will sort out this whole debacle." He looked up at me, his gaze penetrating, "I dare say you will be able to help shed some light on this, won't you Dylan?"

These people missed nothing. I wanted to look away, but I knew he'd know I was hiding something if I did, so I held his gaze, "what do you mean?"

"Don't take me for a fool, Dylan." he said coolly. "You're not half as ignorant as you've led us to believe, and now we need to know what you know."

"I don't know anything…"

"You knew enough to wear rings of pure silver when fighting off the young man outside, and you knew he was after you in the woods. You seemed quite certain of exactly what he was-"

"He's not anything, he's just some nut, I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."

"He's clearly something more than a nut, if he nearly tore your leg off outside of Seattle."

"I told you, it was a dog…"

"Or a wolf perhaps?"

My voice died in my throat, they knew, of course they knew, and they suspected something strange, something dangerous, they knew I was tangled up in something big. I felt trapped, a wild part of me wanted to spring for the nearest door and run. Away from them, from Jordan, from all of it. My logical self chided me, where did I think I was going with my injuries? Did I honestly think I could outrun any of them? Even if I did, how long till Jordan hunted me down again?

"A wolf?" I repeated faintly, feeling what little blood I had left in my face draining from it. Carlisle was bandaging my neck and forehead; he paused and looked at me with understanding, wary eyes. He looked a little pained.

"You know what he is, Dylan, don't lie to me." His topaz eyes were compelling, I felt the pressure of the truth in them worm its way through my defenses. I didn't respond immediately. He frowned and asked seriously,

"Do you know what we are?"

I hadn't expected this question. Surely they wanted me to believe that they were human, their survival depended on secrecy, and I had seen too much already. Was this a test, to see whether or not they should kill me to keep their secret safe, or just to gauge the extent of my involvement in the immortal, supernatural world they lived in? I didn't know which would benefit me more; the truth or a lie, and I was still too shocked and nervous to speak. After a moment I nodded tightly.

He sighed heavily. "How is it that you came to have such knowledge? Have you encountered others?" His voice was guarded, but kind, not demanding, and he didn't seem angry or alarmed by my knowledge, more curious. He wanted to know how much I knew about his kind, and how I'd managed to learn of them. It was understandable, I doubted many humans knew anything at all about the vampires and werewolves that lived among them still, and I knew encountering a person with such knowledge must be quite a shock. I was compelled to tell the truth.

"I met two…two of them, two years ago in Los Angeles, they were going to kill me…but someone helped me, he got me away from them and kept me safe for the rest of the night, he said they'd try to take me again if I was on my own. He said I was safe with him, and when I asked why, he explained it to me." I didn't want to reveal who my savior had been, but I knew Carlisle wouldn't overlook my avoidance.

"Who was it who saved you?" I shook my head, I couldn't tell him this, I couldn't, they couldn't know about my past with Jordan. It would only make them despise him even more; his life would surely be forfeit, if it wasn't already. After all they were vampires, peaceful or no, as far as they were concerned Jordan was an enemy, and what would they think of me, a werewolf's ex-lover, my whole horrid past? Surely I would be just as much an enemy as he was, surely they would kill me as well, or worse.

"Dylan?" Carlisle said, pressing for a response. I looked down at my hands, they were dirty and scratched, there was blood on my fingertips, Jordan's blood or mine? I wiped them hurriedly on my filthy jeans, didn't look up at him. "Dylan, tell me who it was that helped you in LA, please tell me,"

"I can't." I whispered. He didn't understand, he couldn't possibly fathom the pain of these memories, he didn't understand how complicated it was. He was better off ignorant of it all; his family would only be in danger if they got involved any further.

"Was it the Lycan?" I didn't speak. "Dylan, please answer me. Was the boy who attacked you the one who saved you from the vampires?" My pulse quickened as he spoke, he was so dangerously close to the truth, how I wished he would just forget it all. His icy fingers turned my face up to look at his, I bit my lip, it was very hard to stay silent when faced with his breathtaking features.

"Do you know him?" he said softly, kindly, trying to soothe me, his voice was very appealing. I shut my eyes against his liquid golden gaze; it was easier to maintain my resolve this way. "Dylan, if you don't tell me, I will just have to ask your attacker, Emmett is already quite eager to get the information out of him," he chuckled a little, it sounded a bit forced, "Emmett hates to lose at anything, especially a fight. If the boy proves to be as stubborn as you, Emmett will want to force the truth out by other means." I opened my eyes and stared at him, "are you threatening me?" I asked hoarsely. He shook his head sadly.

"I don't want to, Dylan. I am merely stating the truth. We need to understand your peculiar situation, but you don't seem to want our help." I did want it, I needed it, I couldn't keep this up on my own, but how could I let them into this chaotic mess? Why would they care about me?

"You can't help." I stated flatly, "and he has nothing to do with this, please just let him go." He seemed to know I was lying through my teeth, but the plea in my voice was clear. He cocked his head slightly, puzzled and concerned, "why would you want us to release the creature that has been stalking you for… well, you tell me how long? Surely you'd rather we keep him here, so that you can be safe? Or wouldn't you want us to just kill him, so that you can stop running?"

"No!" I said with more force than I intended, the word slipping out before I could stifle it. His eyes widened a little. "You can't kill him," I said hurriedly, panic in my voice, "you can't… he-he didn't mean to attack Bella, or Edward and Emmett… it was just a mistake…"

"A mistake that could have cost Bella her life, and you yours, had we not been there to stop him."

"If he hadn't killed me, I'm sure Jasper would have!" I regretted this stab, I knew it was unfair, but I was angry and defensive, they didn't know Jordan the way I did, they didn't understand how good he could be, how he hated what he was, how he tried with all his will to keep it at bay.

Carlisle raised his eyebrows, he looked half bewildered half troubled, he hadn't expected me to defend my werewolf hunter with such conviction.

"You do know him." It wasn't a question, but it wasn't an accusation either, he was merely stating his comprehension. I wanted to take back what I said, but I knew he knew anyway, before I'd even flared up, he guessed how involved I was with my predator. "Will you tell me how you know him, and why he is hunting you?" I grit my teeth. No, no, no, I wasn't giving away anymore. "I don't know what you're talking about." I said dully, feeling like a broken record, a murderer pleading "not guilty" even after the evidence had been presented to the jury, clutching at straws, at nothing.

"I understand." He said calmly, allowing my defiance. "You need to rest, lie back, now, there you go." I rested my aching head against the soft leather of the couch cushion, my eyes narrowed as I watched Carlisle get up. "Are you going to talk to him?" I asked, before I could stop myself. He looked back at me, "Yes."

He paused, "Don't worry, I won't let Emmett hurt him." I felt a twinge of gratitude, I didn't say anything, but he smiled a little in a reassuring way, as if he knew what I was thinking.

Then he flicked off the light and left the room. I looked at the massive glass windows, it was light outside, the ghostly grey of a foggy dawn, the blackness of the night was fading fast. I covered my face with my hands, pushing back the tears trying to make their way to the surface. I was too tired to cry, and too overwrought not to, I allowed a few shallow intakes of air to keep the sobs at bay, and let the exhaustion steal my consciousness away.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter twelve

Jordan's POV:

I awoke to an acute pounding above my right eye, as if someone had decided it might be fun to strike my skull repeatedly with a hammer. As soon as I opened my eyes I winced and closed them again, lifted my fingers to my forehead and felt a bloody lump the size of a goose egg, where did that come from? I drew my hand away and caught the scent of the blood smeared on my skin, mixed with the familiar scent of my own blood was something else; a sweet, alluring smell, the fragrance of sugary honeysuckle and spring rain. My senses exalted in it, it was the most delicious thing I'd ever smelled. Except I'd encountered this scent before. Dylan's scent. Dylan's blood.

The entire night's events flooded back into my brain like a noxious gas. Stalking Dylan in the woods, the fight with the vampire who'd sprung to her aid in the forest, following her scent in my weaker human form to the great house of the vampire coven that sheltered her, persuading her to come out into the yard to talk with me…

I hadn't realized how much I'd missed her company. I'd allowed my lupine half dominance for so long all I'd been able to focus on was the smell of her, the hunger, and the power I knew could be gained… It had been my sole desire to devour her. But once in my human form again, and standing there with her, with her expressions and her voice and her emotions directed solely at me, I'd realized how much I'd missed her, how much I'd loved her- I loved her still. How could I not? She was the most enthralling human being I'd ever met, and I was horrified at what had become of us, what I'd done to her.

She'd kissed me, oh god how I'd missed kissing her. Remembering this sent a thrill of pleasure through my sore body, but I knew it wasn't untainted. I'd lost control, so close to her, with the irresistible smell of her skin and the barely subdued aroma of her wounds. I felt a pang of disgust at this; wounds _I'd_ given her. I so nearly killed her right then, but we pulled apart, and any thoughts I'd had of feasting on the source of the heavenly fragrance were driven straight from my head by the look on her face. Such horror, and such heartbreaking pain. I would have gladly given up ever hunting again if I could have erased that look from her face.

I'd tried to comfort her and she'd yelled at me, yelled at me in a way she'd never done before. I couldn't believe the hatred behind her outburst, I'd thought it would physically burn me. I'd shouted back, I couldn't help it, I loved her, but she could be the most irritating person! This was all my fault? I wasn't the one who initiated the kiss! I told her the first night we met that I was dangerous, that she was better off distancing herself from me completely. Did she listen? No. She never listened; she never had any interest in common sense or self-preservation. I hadn't forced her into our relationship, she could have walked away at any time, it was her choice as much as mine.

And now she was acting like I'd gotten into this just to play around with her, watch her squirm while I slowly but surely went in for the kill! How could she accuse me of that? Did she think so little of me; did she hate me that much?

Okay, so yes, maybe this was mostly my fault. All my fault. I should have foreseen the consequences of getting so attached to a human, I should have known to end it when I still could. But I'd been so caught up in her, I'd never experienced anything like being in love with Dylan, it was amazing. Looking back on it, I probably couldn't have walked away from her, even if I'd wanted to. And now we were…. We were screwed is what we were. This conflict could only end in pain, and most probably…death. Her death.

But it wasn't just me making those bad decisions, was it? I mean, she wanted to be with me, even when I told her how dangerous it was, she risked it. Was that a good enough excuse? Shouldn't real love mean I'd be strong enough to put her safety before my own desires and pull away from her when I still could? Wouldn't that have been the right thing to do?

But I hadn't done that. And now it was too late. That's what she'd said, "it's too late." But she'd meant it was too late to pick up where we'd left off, to resurrect our love. Was that true? I didn't want to think about that. I knew it was horribly selfish of me to want to be with her after all I'd put her through, knowing how dangerous I was… But I still wanted it; I wanted it more than I could possibly explain to her. And she _had _kissed me. Was it really too late if we could still kiss like that, like we had all the time in the world and nothing else mattered save us?

As I thought of all this, I asked myself why I hadn't said it to her. Why hadn't I told her how I felt about this? I'd been so caught up in the excitement, and the anger; her anger fueled mine, made me lose my head. I couldn't tell her how much pain it gave me to watch her cry, to watch her pull away from me. All I'd let her see was my own indignation and frustration. After all, that was all I'd been given for a long time.

And then one of her newfound protectors had emerged from the forest, seen me at the exact same moment I saw him. I'd transformed-it was a reflex, all vampires were enemies of werewolves, it was a natural law, and being angry and upset only made me more susceptible to my wolf self. But of course the moment I'd given myself over to my animal mind, I'd locked onto Dylan again.

She was so frail, so delicate and slow, how easy it would have been to snap her neck like a tooth pick. But the vampire held me back, and another one joined him. I fought them off, and I'd pursued her. Pursued her the way a wolf pursues an injured deer, taking time to let the fear build, so that the pulse will be vibrating with adrenaline by the time he gets around to ripping into the jugular, knowing how simple bringing it down will be, and how delicious it will taste once he tears into the flesh.

But of course Dylan was no deer, she was smart, and she'd had experiences like this before. I felt another stab of guilt and self-hatred. She'd struck me with painful silver, and smashed a rock over my head, quite effectively, I remembered my tender bump. Then she'd fled, not heeding my calls. Why would she? Why would she trust me at all? After everything I'd done to her, all the pain I'd put her through? I couldn't understand why she'd ever gotten involved with me at all. Surely I should have known this would happen the moment I sat down with her and indulged her curiosity about my kind, the moment I inhaled the warm smell of her.

Back then it had been tolerable; I was able to beat down the craving. Back then I'd only had to worry about attacking her on the full moons, which was easily dealt with. I moaned to myself, I wasn't sure if it was out of physical or mental pain. I was the most despicable being on the planet. She was right to hate me, to fear me. And I thought I loved her. Ha. How could I truly love her if I hurt her in so many ways? She was right; all we had were moments, and moments meant nothing, because I couldn't be trusted, my love was worth nothing.

"Feeling alright?" came a calm, melodious voice from my left. My mind snapped back out of my morose reflection into the present, my eyes flew open and sought the source of the words. How could I not have heard them come in? Then I saw the bleached skin, the flawless features and tawny eyes.

Ah, of course, they were as silent as owls in flight; I could never hear one coming unless I was expecting it. I had only glimpsed this one in the field earlier this evening. He was somewhat older than the ones I'd fought, though still physically perfect, as they all were. He had an oddly kind, sympathetic face, full of compassion and caring, I'd never seen such a humanness in the face of a vampire. It unnerved me. He stood in the doorway, behind him was the younger one with reddish-bronze hair, and a little way off the muscular one stood, glowering in my direction.

It only occurred to me then that I was in a room, and not out in the woods as I'd automatically assumed. It was a simple, undecorated room with no windows and only one door. The thick, white-washed metal pipes running along the ceiling and the musky, damp smell led me to guess it was a basement of some kind, and indeed, two or three neatly sealed cardboard boxes were set in the corner, and what looked like a busted stereo speaker was propped up beside them. There was a plain, hard couch shoved into the corner, probably down here for storage rather than actual leisure activity, and this was where I was laying.

I was rather too long for it, and my feet dangled off the end. I sat up and pulled them around to rest on the concrete floor, they were bare, and the floor was chilly. My head spun a little as I moved, but it was easy enough to ignore. I looked back at the vampire standing across from me. His eyebrows were raised, he was expecting an answer to his question, I couldn't remember what he'd asked, he seemed to guess from my blank expression and came toward me. There was something off about the way he moved, it wasn't the loping, sinuous gait of a normal vampire, more like a human, though his steps were more fluid and graceful than any human could ever be.

I looked up at his face again as he came close and suddenly registered what the color of his eyes meant. They were deep honey-gold, not the wine-red of carnivorous vampires. This coven must be one of the rare groups that abstained from hunting humans. Instead they hunted animals.

That explained why Dylan was with them, I knew she would never take shelter with a group of true vampires, she'd had enough experience to know not to go near those, especially if she were wounded and bleeding, as she had been. But, even though this coven was vegetarians, so to speak, they were clearly not completely immune to the lure of human blood. One of their own had tried to attack her upon catching the scent of the fresh blood, and had only been restrained from murdering her by his fellows, who evidently had more control. He wasn't one of the ones standing outside, I noted. I hoped he wasn't with Dylan, wherever she might be. Bandages or no, the smell was still mouth watering, who was to say he would behave himself if given the opportunity to finish her off?

I was distracted from this train of thought as the vampire stopped in front of me and leaned down to my level, his serious gaze locking with mine. I didn't blink and he smiled a little. "You don't mind if I take a look, do you?" he asked, gesturing to my forehead.

Um what? Was this some interrogation tactic? Act all friendly and concerned and then go in for the kill? Wait, no kill, forgot, yellow eyes, no human blood, right. My headache gave another painful throb, a not so subtle rebuke; "shut up and answer yes or no you idiot!"

"Sure." I muttered, casting my eyes down. His cold fingertips traced the swelled red gash lightly, "can you see alright out of this eye?"

"Fine."

"No black or blurry patches, no problems with color or focusing?"

"No,"

"What about dizziness, headache, fatigue, nausea, difficulty remembering anything?" Ha, I wish I could forget the past few hours. Memory loss would be a blessing.

"Headache, a little queasy."

"Very well. You have a minor concussion I believe, nothing too serious, it should wear off in a few hours. Drink this," he handed me a water bottle, I drank, unaware of how thirsty I actually was. Thirst always accompanied reverting back to my human shape, if I hadn't satisfied my thirst for blood in my wolf form, then I was parched after I transformed. Within a minute I'd chugged most of the bottle. The vampire swiped a cotton swab soaked in peroxide over my cut, I winced. He ignored me and peered closer at the bump.

"It's a close call, but I think you'll only need one or two stitches."

"I don't need any stitches, I'm a quick healer." He looked up at me wryly, "no doubt."

He knew as well as I did that werewolves had very quick regenerative abilities, though in my weakened state, it would take at least a day for my strength to return enough for these powers to begin to work. "I'm sure you are perfectly capable of looking after yourself, young man, but the cut in quite nasty, it's best to seal it up quickly so it can heal faster. She gave you quite a whack didn't she?" I stiffened at his casual question; it did not escape his notice.

"How is she?" I breathed. I didn't want to give anything away, but I couldn't keep from asking this. "She'll mend." The vampire said calmly, then added, "you didn't hurt her too badly," the tone implied he was referring to this evening only, not to the week before, where I'd nearly torn her limb from limb. He continued, explaining, "A few cuts on her head and neck, nothing fatal. And the stitches in her leg and shoulder didn't open, which is a miracle, so, providing she doesn't lose anymore blood," here he gave me a somewhat admonishing look, "and assuming the infection doesn't spread, she should be up to scratch in two to three weeks."

Two to three weeks, infection, stitches? I wanted to find a small hole somewhere and curl up in it and never again emerge, my shame burned in my cheeks. I didn't say anything; the pounding in my head was growing more painful.

"I suppose that comes as a relief?" The vampire asked tentatively, pressing. "Yes." I agreed. The silence was uncomfortable, but I didn't know what to say to this man, how much did he know already? Did Dylan tell him the whole story, or had she edited? I wish I could speak to her, find out what she had revealed and what she wanted to keep hidden, if she trusted them, if they trusted _her_ for that matter, if they were going to take revenge on me…

"You're name is Jordan, isn't it?" he asked evenly, breaking the silence and drawing my gaze up to his again. "Yes," I said warily.

"My name is Carlisle, and those are my sons, Emmett and Edward," he gestured toward the two just visible through the small gap of the half open door, "You've met, I daresay?" Was he mocking me? I nodded tightly, but felt compelled to respond, "I'm very sorry about that, I didn't mean to-"

"No need to apologize, Jordan, you were not in your right mind at the time, we will not hold it against you." Well that seemed rather generous, too generous to be true. In my experience vampires are very vengeful creatures. Living as long as they do, they do not easily forgive offenses, they hold grudges for decades, and often seek bloody retribution. It seemed ludicrous that this coven would just magnanimously forgive my attack on two of their family, surely they saw me as an enemy and a threat, surely they would want to punish me?

But then again, these creatures didn't seem to follow the normal customs of their kind: abstaining from human blood, keeping a permanent residence amongst humans, freely interacting with them, caring for a werewolf attacker. I supposed I couldn't assume anything with these people.

"Well, thank you, that's very understanding, more understanding than I deserve." I said sincerely. Carlisle smiled a little at my earnest gratitude, but his eyes were still steely. "I'm afraid that forgiveness does not come freely, Jordan." He stated this regretfully, as if he did not want to be the bearer of bad news, but he knew it must be done. "You must understand, we are somewhat perplexed by this situation, we are curious…" Ah, they wanted answers from me. Dylan hadn't told them what they wanted to know. "We naturally have a few questions,"

"I don't know if I can help you with that, I don't know very much myself." He smiled again, a paternal smile, as if he'd expected as much. "But, I daresay, you know a bit more than we do." Couldn't contradict him there.

"What did she tell you?" I demanded warily, feeling myself backing up slowly into a corner, but unable to find any exits. His brows knit is mild frustration- bingo. "Very little, she insists she doesn't know you, is that true?"

"Yes. I saw her for the first time yesterday, in the woods, she was bleeding and I was hungry, so I followed her." The lie burned my throat like hot oil as I spoke it, but I knew it sounded convincing, I kept my face impassive, honest. "But tonight was not the full moon, nor was the night before. Why would you be in your wolf form if it was not the right moon phase?" There was no reason to lie about this, I suspected he knew the rules as well as I did, but if I told the whole story he'd see through me, he knew there must be more to it than the normal circumstances, he was trying to catch me off guard. It wouldn't work. I spoke the truth, but edited, leaving out the details that linked me to Dylan.

"I drank human blood during the full moon." I said simply. "It's natural to hunt animals in our wolf forms, but the evil magic that runs in our veins, separates us from true wolves, it drives us to hunt people as well. If a Lycan sticks to a diet of strictly animals during the three nights of the full moon, he will only be forced into his wolf shape during that certain part of the month. But when he kills a human, he is cursed, forever a monster, not just during the full moon. So I can transform whenever I choose, or whenever the urge becomes too strong." He knew this already, I was sure, but I felt I had to spell it out, as I'd spelled it out to Dylan years ago.

He nodded, his mouth turning down at the corners. "So you just happened upon Dylan in the woods. Didn't you wonder why she was bleeding so heavily?"

"No, at the time all I could focus on was the fact that there was so much human blood in my vicinity, I didn't really ponder the reason. Wolves don't often concern themselves with the technicalities of our prey."

"So you don't know what did it to her?"

"Another wolf in the area perhaps, a cougar, a bear, there are plenty of big predators around here, or maybe just a dog."

"That's what she said."

"You don't believe her?"

"No, I don't. I'm a doctor, Jordan, I've worked in many places and dealt with many different injuries, and I've seen dog bites before. These were too large for any dog, and there was a very small amount of some strange venom in the blood, not enough to have any negative effects, but still…"

I bit the inside of my lip, dammit, venom, I should have known.

Whenever we scent a likely prey our mouths automatically secrete the poison that triggers the Lycan transformation. Usually we kill our prey before the venom has time to circulate and infect the body, but if we don't finish the job, and enough venom had entered the blood stream, that person will become a werewolf at the next full moon. I was horrified that I had inadvertently poisoned Dylan, but if the doctor was telling the truth, as I believed he was, then she would not be cursed as I was.

But still, he had found the weak point in my story, he had guessed the truth. I felt my pulse quicken as he went in for the kill.

Carlisle finished his statement with a note of delicate assumption, "the only predator that I know of that transmits that kind of venom is Lycans. And I know for a fact that the werewolves in this area do not hunt humans, nor do a majority of them even transform at the full moon, the bloodline is diluted, the trait is hardly ever passed on anymore. So, who could have bitten her, if not you?"


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter thirteen

Edward's POV:

I leaned against the wall outside of the basement room, the door ajar beside me, Carlisle's words, and the words of the Lycan, ringing clear as crystal through the solid plaster and dry wall in my hyper sensitive ears. It was easy to catch the words exchanged in the next room, but harder to focus on their meaning with Emmett growling under his breath at a speed almost too fast to catch, like the buzz of a particularly incessant hornet.

"Can't believe this, he's practically fluffing his pillow! What does he expect to get from him if he keeps coddling him and acting like this is some kind of bed-and-breakfast for bloodthirsty mongrels? The girl's upstairs sleeping off two near-death episodes in one night and the creature responsible for one of them is down here being-"

"Emmett, please shut up!" Not only was his mouth running a mile a minute but his thoughts were keeping equal pace; a string of complaints, inflections and grumblings that were driving me to the brink of insanity.

Emmett paused mid-mumble and rolled his eyes, "_sorry_" he said exaggeratedly. "But I'd think you'd be on my side, Edward, after what almost happened to Bella-" I shot him a warning look and he changed track. "What I mean is, you know perfectly well that being all paternal and round-about isn't going to get us any information!"

"He's hardly being round-about, he's being perfectly forward, I don't see what you expect him to do differently." I did of course, but it never paid to encourage Emmett's thoughtless impulses, better to let them pass. He didn't let it drop though, "well, there are other, much more efficient means of finding out what we need to know," he cracked his knuckles theatrically; in a manner I'm sure any human numbskull would have found quite intimidating. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Don't be a brute, Emmett. Carlisle is trying to be civil, you may have heard of it somewhere; it's called _tact_."

"Oh excuse me. But while he's busy with 'tact'" he made a face like the word had a bad aftertaste on his tongue, "we have a human upstairs who could at any moment put two and two together and realize what we are, we have a dangerous Lycan chatting in our basement, and we still have no idea how the two are connected and what danger they are to us!"

"Don't be melodramatic Emmett, you're just sore that the wolf defeated you so easily." He scowled, I caught "he beat you too" lodged indignantly in his thoughts, but I continued, pretending not to see or hear.

"You're over reacting, I wouldn't be surprised if the girl is so beffudled by blood loss that she forgets all the details of tonight, and you seem to be forgetting that the so called 'dangerous Lycan' is in his human form, weak and completely under our control." I turned my gaze away from my brother and turned it to the half-open door again, adding in an off-hand manner, "and she knows what we are already, she's known pretty much since she came into the house."

"What!"

"Yes, she told Carlisle so, and I heard it in her mind, after Jasper came in to speak to her, she knew."

"Edward, how can you be so calm about this? She knows what we are, does that no longer matter since Bella has found out, now suddenly it's acceptable for hordes of humans to know our secrets?"

I raised my eyebrows skeptically "hordes?" I repeated. Emmett rolled his eyes, "one is all it takes-no, make that two, I'm sure the Lycan knows as well, he may have been concussed by that rock but I don't think he's stupid enough not to realize," He subsided into mutters again, "then again, I could be wrong."

"If you're heading down that train of thought again can you at least do it silently so I can concentrate?"

"Fine." The mutters ceased, but the grumbling thoughts continued loud and clear. I focused on tuning them out and instead turned my complete attention to Carlisle and the werewolf, Jordan.

All in all I was still immensely puzzled by this entire situation. None of it made sense.

It was unheard of for a Lycan to stalk a certain human, they were not long-term hunters, their short time frames limited them to quick kills. But this one was not like normal werewolves who were only subject to the change at the full moon. He had drunk human blood, therefore he was cursed forever. The ability was at his disposal, he could transform whenever he chose-or possibly not. I knew from Carlisle that werewolves had just as much difficulty resisting humans as we did. He, like any other of his kind who had tasted humans, would transform the moment the urge became too strong to ignore. But that did not explain why he was hunting Dylan. It was obvious that he had injured her, there was no chance some fluke encounter with another wolf had left her with those wounds, but why had he singled her out?

And then there was the alarming matter of how powerful he was. I had been cocky when I challenged him outside, confidant that I would beat him as I had in the forest earlier. But he'd been weak then, distracted and surprised and hungry. Evidently he had regained his strength since then, perhaps he'd fed before he followed her to the house, I did not care to think of that.

But however he had come to recover his potency, it had been quite effective. His strength had been astounding. I had fought precious few Lycans in my hundred odd years of life, our two species did not often interact if it could be helped, but I had never fought one that strong before. Strong enough to bat me aside as if I were a rag doll, stronger than Emmett even. It was unnatural.

The newly opened channel of his thoughts was not very helpful in unraveling the mystery. The moment he regained conciousness his mind was accessible to me. In sleep the thoughts were jumbled and incoherent, unfocused to the point where it was ridiculous to even attempt to decipher them. But when he awoke, they reformed themselves into consistent lines of meaning; images and memories neatly configured rather than blurred fragments and clips.

However he, like Dylan, seemed to have some perplexing ability to block off certain portions of their minds from my probing. It was different from the sensation of trying to read Bella's mind. When I reached out to where she was, I could hear nothing, sense nothing, it was as if there were no living thing there at all, no consciousness. But with these two, this mysterious human girl and her wolf stalker, I could feel the presence of the thoughts, feel the emotions and the memories and the opinions humming like a hive of bees. But when I tried to pick one out only certain things rose clearly to the surface, others remained elusive, blurred, like shadows of thoughts that no longer held any meaning whatsoever.

I'd noticed that this irritating factor was less prominent in the Lycan's mind, and much more so in the human's. How peculiar. Was it because his was tainted with the werewolf magic, whatever mental oddity this was simply wasn't as potent because his mind functioned differently? Somehow I doubted it. This wasn't a natural occurrence, at least not in the Lycan's case, it was harder for me to be sure of Dylan. This trait had been induced, he'd gained it somehow, through sudden mutation or magic or medical means I had no idea, but I could sense that the ability was not functioning at it's highest potential, there was a deficiency of some kind, his mind did not have the same strength hers did. Again, I couldn't imagine why this was, pure coincidence I supposed; the ability just happened to be more concentrated in the girl, nothing more than that.

I reached out again for the Lycan's mind and caught a flicker of large hazel eyes overflowing with water, a trembling hand clutching a slim neck, chapped lips slightly parted in mute horror. I snatched at this memory and concentrated. Again, I hit the invisible wall, following the subconscious thread of thought deeper into his mind, but as I brushed at the meaning it repelled me, sending a little burst of aggressive energy into my probing mind. My inner vision blanked out, the memory slipped away like an image sapping out on a television, almost as if he's suddenly forgotten the whole thing. Hardly likely.

I let out a growl of frustration and let the fragment of memory float away into the nothingness, it was useless to me if I couldn't follow it to his actual thoughts.

"What's the matter with you?" Emmett asked broodingly, still not over his moodiness.

"It's just so exasperating! I thought after I met Bella she would be the only person I ever had trouble hearing, I never thought it would happen again. And now-twice in one night!"

"Maybe you're loosing your touch," Emmett said coolly, my eyes narrowed. The look would have curdled milk in a cup, the spitefulness faded from Emmett's thoughts and face as he registered how serious I was.

"You really can't hear anything?"

"Not precisely, and that's what so maddening! I can hear some thoughts, and sense others, but if I try to pursue particular trains of thought; some memory, some emotion I think is connected to this whole affair, I randomly smack into some mental barrier. I try to break into the deeper consciousness and you know what happens? It hurts! It stings, like an electric shock or something similar, and I can't breach it! Even with Bella, even though I could never hear anything, at least her mind didn't electrocute me!"

"Why do you think they're different?"

"I haven't a clue, the same reason Bella is different or I have this ability at all, maybe it's just a fluke. Does it really matter?"

Emmett shrugged, glanced up at the ceiling in thought, and looked back at me, "well, I just thought it was rather odd for the two of them to both have this ability. A pretty bizarre coincidence, considering they're both working to hide their connection to each other. Ironic like."

"Fantastic, and considering how much I relish irony I should be really pleased with this whole situation. Thank you for that revelation, Emmett." He grinned wickedly, "No problem, Edward."

I stopped talking to Emmett altogether, he retreated into his own thoughts, which centered mainly upon his hunger and boredom and general resentment toward the occupant of the next room. I tuned back into Carlisle's mind and the conversation he was having with the werewolf. "He's as evasive as she is, Edward." Carlisle thought in mild annoyance as Jordan dodged another question. "How am I to help either of them if they refuse to be honest with me?"

I couldn't answer him even if I wanted to, standing out in the hall with Emmett, so I took this question as rhetorical. I couldn't entirely grasp why Carlisle wanted to get involved in this so much, it really didn't concern us. If these two refused to let us join in their private war, well, that was their prerogative. It was better for us really, not to get mixed up in some peculiar conflict between an abnormally powerful Lycan and his strangely resilient prey. Admittedly, I felt guilty for not exerting more of as effort to help Dylan. She was prickly and irrational, refusing our help and knowingly putting herself in the path of a dangerous werewolf, but she was an innocent human, and very young. A normal human did not have to go through so much, she did not deserve the pain and danger she was facing, of that I was certain.

But where I was hesitant to jump into unseen risks, Carlisle was pushing head-on into this conflict. But that was Carlisle. He had an unquenchable calling to help people, in whatever way he could, and he had latched onto Dylan and her crisis, whatever it was. For some reason he was drawn to her, he couldn't repress the desire to help her. I admired his compassion and his humanity, but I couldn't muster it for myself in the same way he could. No one could have the same driving compassion as Carlisle.

"So, who could have bitten her, if not you?" I heard Carlisle ask coolly in the next room. I felt the spasm of panic in Jordan's thoughts, Carlisle had him cornered, he could only answer with the truth or lie, and I would know either way.

"I don't know." Jordan said heavily, but I felt the truth burning like a brand in his mind, it was at the forefront of his thoughts, and he didn't have time to block me from seeing it. He was lying. He had attacked her. I fastened my mental grip on these words and refused to let the memory slip away into oblivion, I would find out the truth, his mind couldn't block me out forever. I focused all my concentration and power into breaking through the barrier that blocked my comprehension, refusing to loose my hold on the fragment of memory, my one link to the his deeper thoughts.

I felt a tiny crack in the blockade, hair thin and minute, perhaps his defenses had been addled by the blow to his head, but whatever the reason I had found my loop hole. I forced the crack wider, followed the invisible thread of meaning that connected the memory I had heard to the thoughts beyond the wall. And then my inner eyes were flooded with visions, like watching a film reel, seeing from Jordan's point of view. It was saturated with his recollections and feelings and observations, but the memory was pure and true, he remembered everything in perfect detail…


	14. Chapter 14

_Ok, this is a little confusing, the beginning of this is in Edward's point of view, but he is reliving Jordan's memory, so it is also Jordan's point of view. It is Edward seeing things as Jordan remembers them, with Jordan's emotions, thoughts and actions, Edward is just tagging along as an observer, got it?_

Chapter fourteen

Edward's POV:

I could hear the lapping of waves, smell the distinct tang of salt water and brine. There was a strong wind curling over the bushes and grass, twining around my still form, blowing the hair back from my face and plastering my frayed traveling clothes against my limbs. I turned my face skyward, looked up at the moon, almost totally obscured by clouds and fog. A light drizzle was pattering against the asphalt of the road I stood on, each tiny drop's impact slightly magnified in my sensitive ears. It was late, though precisely what time I couldn't tell with the sky so clouded, but I guessed it must be well after midnight, for there were no cars on this road.

I had followed the scent here, Dylan's scent, I knew automatically, though I hadn't really noticed it previously. Now, through Jordan's senses, it was all I could focus on, a ridiculously appealing, mouth-watering perfume like the nectar of honeysuckles mixed with the delicate fragrance of pomegranates. I knew I'd smelled it before, but I realized being around Bella for so long had numbed me to the appeal of other smells. I recognized now how addictive this new scent was. I couldn't blame Jordan for following it here.

I glanced around me once again. I could see the hunched outline of the city beyond the road, the spires and juts of bridges and buildings, close by, but indistinct and hazy in the fog and rain. I recognized the city, but I had no interest in it-she hadn't gone that way. She'd turned off the road, I knew, and had stumbled down through the patchy undergrowth to the beach, which was relatively sheltered from the road. Perhaps she was trying to throw me off with the strong smell of the ocean, but more likely she was too weak to keep going without a rest, and just didn't want to sit on the roadside out on the open.

This thought thrilled me, my predatory instincts squirmed in anticipation at the thought of my prey: weak, vulnerable, alone. I strode across the road to the scrubby bushes hugging the metal barrier. Swinging my leg silently over the low divider and stepping into the undergrowth I stooped low and felt about on the ground gently for a moment. I detected the minute indent in the dirt, the almost nonexistent print of her boots, and the ghost of her aroma hovering in the air above them, along with the metallic smell of fear.

I stood again and picked my way quietly through the bushes, I didn't wear any shoes, so my feet made almost no sound. The rain would cover any small rustlings I might make, so I sped up, my nostrils flared to the imposing smell of the sea and the delicious smell of my prey floating on the breeze. I was in my human form, but my senses and mind were still almost entirely that of my wolf self. Only a small corner of my brain still retained my humanness, so small and insignificant I paid it no heed.

I emerged onto the broad, flat expanse of the beach. There was very little sand, mostly round pebbles and gravel, and the iron water was lapping at the shore, the tide was coming in. chunks of pale drift wood and occasional pieces of litter or seaweed were scattered about on the ground, but there was no living thing in sight. I kept to the edge, near the bushes, bent low to the ground, my feet hardly shifting the gravel underfoot, my eyes wide against the gloom.

I could see a form ahead of me, crouched beside a piece of bleached white wood, carried up almost to the shrubs by past waves. There was a canvas backpack propped up against the log, it was open, she was extracting a bottle of water from inside. Opening it she took several deep, rushed sips, coughing as she swallowed too much. Again the hunger flared as I watched the water drip from the corner of that soft mouth, saw the muscles of her throat flex as she coughed, all in perfect detail with my night-sensitive eyes.

She unclenched her bent legs from their crouch and sat properly, stretching out her long legs and wincing a little at the residual cramps and aches. She took a few more gulps of the water and replaced it in her pack, closing it and leaning back a little against the driftwood, her hand rising to cover her face in exhaustion. The wind blew her hair away from her face and sent her scent spiraling toward me in an whirl of temptation. I licked my lips. I rose from my crouched position and stood straight, stepped forward with silent, steady steps, toward my prey, sitting oblivious.

"Hello Dylan," I said quietly, as I stopped right beside her, looking down at her thin, motionless form, her titled head and exposed throat. Her hand flew from her face and her eyes were wide in surprise and panic, a tiny gasp escaped her mouth. She scrambled to her feet more quickly than I had expected, but then she had always been quite fast for a human, it was part of what made the chase so enjoyable.

Making to bolt for the bushes, she nearly stumbled over the driftwood, but caught herself, leaping over it. It was a good try, she would have made it over, and cleared it by several feet, I was impressed by the agility of the jump. I seized her arm before she hit the ground, jerking her back with such force I heard her elbow pop. She sprawled on the ground, her legs draped over the log she had tried to jump over, her arm still firmly in my grip. "I commend your effort," the monster in me purred, yanking her to her feet and pulling her closer.

"You've given quite a chase, I'll almost be sorry it's ending."

"Jordan, please don't do this-" The fear in her words was apparent, her voice shook, like the tinkling of a bell.

"Pleading will get you no where, Dylan, I am no longer a slave to my weaker half."

"You don't want to do this, fight it, Jordan, please!" she was close to tears now, the hysteria of impending death almost radiated from her skin it was mounting so quickly. I chuckled quietly, "you humans are so amusing when you're desperate, it's like watching a rat scrabbling in a maze." My laughter faded, "but the maze has to end sometime, that's the way it works."

"Please, you can fight it, you can go back to before-"

I laughed again, she'd always been funny too, I had forgotten that, it had been a while since I'd actually spoken to her. "Back? Back to my pathetic human self? Back to the limitations of the moon and my fickle emotions? I think not. I have embraced the power in me, Dylan, I will never go back to that existence."

"But you loved me then, don't you remember that, doesn't that mean anything?"

"Of course. You were a wonderful novelty. But the novelty has worn off I'm afraid, all fantasies must come to an end in due course."

"If you loved me you wouldn't do this, you swore you wouldn't, you told me your love would protect me from it." That was bold of her, and naïve, but after all, she was only a human, and young at that, I couldn't expect her to grasp the truth. I chuckled to myself.

"Sentiment," I shook my head in amusement, "a ghost of an infatuation, now purged-"

My words were cut off, something sharp and searing cold had pierced my hand, stinging like acid, sending a thousand tiny needles of pain shooting through my arm. I screamed and released my hold, staring at my fingers in horror. Warm blood was blossoming from a slash bellow my knuckles, the edges of the cut were tinged metallic grey. "Silver!" I hissed furiously, clenching my fist to dull the pain. "You little-"

She had seized her pack and leapt over the log, sprinting through the underbrush like a deer. I growled and ran after her, flitting through the darkness and vegetation with the speed of a hawk, my eyes fixed on her. She was looping around, trying to swerve back toward the beach and the road, her breathing shallow and erratic. I spun around and flew back the way I had come, meeting her head on as she rocketed toward the road. Fast as she was, her night vision was poor, she didn't see me until a second before she smacked right into me.

The force of the collision left her dazed for a second, but then she regained her balance, tried to run. I had her by the wrists, before she could blink, my grip unslackening as she twisted and struggled. I raised one of the hands to my face and gazed at what she had clenched in her fist. A small knife, no longer than my hand, the shiny blade smeared with my blood. "Silver, that was a sneaky trick." There were silver rings on her fingers as well, she'd been better prepared than I thought. "I never pegged you as the conniving type, Dylan, but that was well played." I extracted the knife from her fingers and hurled it into the bushes, "a pity it didn't work."

I dragged her out of the bushes and onto the beach, repeating her words with rage and amusement, "If you loved me you wouldn't do this, you swore you wouldn't… oho you're a clever human, I'll give you that, and manipulative. No wonder I liked you so much."

"Let go of me, stop it, you can't do this, let go!"

I twisted her wrist forcefully, she cried out in pain, "I'll not be tricked again, Dylan, we'll finish this now."

I inhaled deeply, letting her smell fill my lungs, my wolf instincts sang with eagerness. I wanted the taste of that blood, I wanted the power flowing through those veins like an electric current, I wanted the fluttering of that pulse and the trembling of those hands and the softness of that skin, I wanted to rend it apart and feel the heat of the life drain away as I devoured the source of that heavenly scent.

A deep, gravely growl rose in my throat, I felt my muscles vibrating and shuddering as they shifted and expanded, felt my teeth lengthening, my jaws widening. My body convulsed as the transformation reached its peak, but I still did not release my grip on my prize, I would have her tonight, I would finally feast. And suddenly the transformation was done, my body altered, my claws clenched around her frail wrists, my tongue lolling in anticipation. She was struggling like a madman now, putting all her pathetic strength into trying to break my hold, yelling for help with no one to hear, sobbing for mercy.

I lunged for her throat but she twisted away desperately, my teeth instead latching onto her shoulder. I sank them deep into the soft flesh and felt her scream in my ear, a scream of pure pain and terror, but I barely heard it. Sweet, hot blood was flooding my mouth, more delicious than I remembered, more incredible than I had fantasized. I ripped deeper into the tissue and muscle, feeling my power increase ten fold with every gush of her blood that entered my mouth, so much raw power, so much undiluted magic, I felt I might go mad with the thrill of it. She was still screaming, crying, struggling, but these things seemed distant and insignificant. I released her wrists and instead latched my claws onto her shoulders, the better to hold her still.

She tried to yank herself away and I snarled, hitting her hard across the face, leaving a long, jagged cut on her cheek. This began to bleed in abundance and I was distracted from her shoulder for the briefest instant, the frenzy of the kill taking hold of my senses, the immediately fresh blood drawing my attention. I turned to tear at the soft skin of her cheek and she lashed out at my face, the burning silver of the cursed rings making me yowl with annoyance and pain.

She broke away for a moment, made a reckless bolt for the bushes, I leapt after her like a cat after a fluttering bird, caught hold of her knee and brought her down, she smacked against the ground with a scream. She scrabbled against the stones and gravel desperately, trying to pull herself away, trying to get to her feet. I lunged madly forward, snarling, and sank my teeth into her leg, the pulsing veins tearing as easily as flimsy silk, the sinews and muscles shuddering like frantic fish thrown onto land, and the rich, warm blood spurting forth in a red fountain.

She kicked, kicked again with more force than I had believed she possessed, her foot cracking against my skull like a javelin, jarring my teeth, making me loosen my grip. She lashed out again blindly, missing my eyes by inches. I growled low in my throat, the tantalizing blood seeping through the fabric of her pants and flowering over her calf like a splash of scarlet paint, that precious stuff going to waste. She was on her feet and stumbling, running, limping with feverish speed toward the water. I jumped up from the ground and rushed after her, the scent and lingering taste of her flesh driving me berserk, extinguishing all logic or reserve.

I was a hand's breath away from seizing her backpack and wrenching her back into my grasp when I stumbled into the water. With a screech of pain and rage I hopped back, shaking my paw frantically to dislodge the poisonous liquid. Water is death to Lycans, we cannot tolerate it, especially moving water, the sting and coldness of it was almost as painful as silver, and ravenous as I was for the human, I could not pursue her into the dreaded ocean.

She stumbled in deeper, wading and floundering like a wounded bird, until she was up to her waste, then she stopped, hunching over and gripping her thighs with trembling hands, gasping for breath. She turned and looked back at me, blood still pouring down her face and her shoulder, and staining the water around her darker as her torn leg continued to flow without pause. I roared in rage, pacing up and down the shore with twitching, furious movements, glaring at her, my prize, pulled from my grasp at the last moment.

In my fury and ravenous craving it did not occur to me that were I to revert back to my human form, I could wade in after her. But then I would have to drag her back out, and we would both be soaked with the hateful substance, I could not transform if I was drenched, so I would have to hold onto her until we both dried off.

I stared hungrily after her as she retreated further into the icy water, the floral scent of her blood fading in the overpowering reek of the ocean. I snarled again, gritted my teeth, then turned away in disgust and anger, shot off into the bushes and into the road, prowling along the empty highway in a deadly temper, looking for a passing car containing a victim with which I could attempt to satisfy my hunger. I knew she would have to emerge from the water eventually, but it would not be here, and it would not be tonight. She would travel as far as she could along this coast, keeping close to the water she knew I feared, but she would have to stray toward land sooner or later, and I would follow at a distance until then, my hunger even more potent than before.

_Listen up people, I am working day and night (literally, it is like 11:45 PM right now as I am finishing this), and I don't mean to be needy, but please please please! If you read this, REVIEW! It doesn't matter what you have to say; if you hate it, tell me so, if you think I need to get a life, say so, if you love it and want more, I'd love the encouragement. I ain't kidding, at least four reviews if you want the next chapter, you hear?_


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter fifteen

Edward's POV:

I let out a sharp gasp of air as the images dispersed from my vision like drops of oil in water. The memory faded and with the force of a gunshot I was expelled from his mind. My eyes stung from such prolonged connection with his thoughts, reliving his memory in perfect, three dimensional detail, feeling as if I myself were the Lycan, I had followed Dylan to Seattle, to the beach, it was I who had tasted that delicious flesh and had it snatched from my grasp at the last moment- I shook my head, trying to dislodge those cravings and memories. They were not mine, I had not done those things- I would not do those things.

When entering someone else's private memories and absorbing them for an extended period of time it is easy, too easy, to bring back fragments of the emotions and motivations that were present in said memory. I was thankful Dylan was upstairs, and that her scent could not permeate the walls, for if I were near her in this state, I was not sure I could restrain myself from sampling the blood that had tasted so luscious in Jordan's memory.

"What's with you?" Emmett asked, looking at me curiously as I rubbed my eyes tiredly and shook my head again, the last remnants of Jordan's madness and thirst seeping from my mind like slush. "Nothing, just a little breakthrough- I saw it, I saw how he attacked her outside of Seattle…"

"You broke through the wall, you can read his thoughts now?" Emmett's face was eager, but it fell as I shook my head,

"No, I'm as inhibited as ever I'm afraid, the defenses are still strong, but I did manage to find a small crack, and it allowed me to see one of his memories. But it seems to have sealed itself off again, that's why I was booted out of the memory with such force." I grimaced at this.

"So he attacked her, we guessed that already, what else did you find out?"

I picked through what I had seen and heard, what had I found out?

"He has been hunting her for some time. I vaguely sensed the duration, but I couldn't pick out exactly how long: weeks, months perhaps. He can't bring himself to leave her alone; it's almost an obsession, or an addiction. There's something special about her, something powerful, supernatural even. Not a vampire, not a werewolf, something quite different, I believe that is what keeps me from reading her thoughts."

I stopped, twisted my mouth uncertainly, it was so beyond the realm of possibility I could barely consider it. Outwardly there didn't seem to be anything above the norm about Dylan. Yes, she smelled appetizing, but so did many other humans, it was not reason enough to go through all the trouble of pursuing her for so long.

Why was he so drawn to her, her in particular? It was not like Bella and me, I knew for a fact that Lycans do not experience the same cravings for certain humans as vampires do. They do not maintain their wolf forms constantly, so they do not have the chance to develop the same tastes and palate as we do, they do not learn to pick out the most desirable choices. Perhaps, because of his unique circumstances, Jordan was different, he could pick out Dylan's above-average appeal, but I was missing something.

Yes, she was an attractive prey, young and pretty and enticing, but was that all there was to it? I had sensed something more, something quite different from the normal lure she exerted as a human, something powerful. When I'd- when _he'd_ drank her blood, there had been a thrill of raw power coursing through him like a drug, something quite different from the sensation of killing a normal person. There was a strange force present in the human, present not only in her mind, repelling my abilities, but in her very body, in her blood and flesh and bones. Some old magic I had never encountered before, something ancient and formidable, but I could not grasp what precisely it was.

"What could be so special about a human?" Emmett snorted skeptically. I shook my head, I knew what could be special about humans, but there was no way to explain this to my brother, not even worth trying.

"I'm not even sure she is human."

"Of course she is."

"Maybe, but she certainly isn't as ordinary as she seems,"

Emmett shrugged, not really interested in speculation.

"Any actual facts to speak of?" he demanded impatiently.

I turned the images over in my mind again, the way he looked at her, the words they'd spoken…

"They knew each other before he caught her in Seattle, " I said slowly, "Before he even started hunting her. And it wasn't just a casual connection; she wasn't some stranger he glanced at, some neighbor or acquaintance he happened to strike up a conversation with… I think they were close, romantically involved even."

It was absurd of course. He was a bloodthirsty werewolf, and not even one who's transformations only occurred once in a while; a full blown monster, subject to his wolf side at all times, a danger no matter what shape the moon shone in. She was a human, his natural prey, and one that, for reasons I could barely fathom, had drawn his attention in the worst possible way. But could she have drawn his attention in another way? How could they have been together? It was inconceivable.

It was different from my relationship with Bella. I had trained myself for decades to resist the lure of humans, I was strong enough to sustain from the craving, while he had admitted to hunting humans, I had witnessed his attempt on her life, and who knew if it was the first?

Emmett seemed to share my doubts, he let out another loud snort of disbelief, though I heard in his mind annoyance and frustration tempered with his amusement. He was irritated that I hadn't found out anything that he considered useful, or even accurate.

"Romantically involved" he repeated scornfully, "you can't be serious."

"I am," I said quietly. "I think she really loved him, or at any rate, she thought she did. And he seems to have returned to feeling, to an extent, though his account can't exactly be held as truthful, he wasn't exactly himself when he said it-"

"Said what?"

"A ghost of an infatuation," I quoted, distastefully, remembering how he hissed the words in cold amusement, scorning whatever he had once felt for her, if indeed, he had felt anything at all. "No wonder I liked you so much." I repeated his callous words, words he'd uttered when he sought to mock her, but I knew they were rooted in real reflection, I had felt it in the memory, and he had agreed with her when she'd mentioned it, asked if he recalled their love. "Of course." He'd said, "You were a wonderful novelty."

"He could have just pretended to care about her, to get closer to her, if he was so intent on hunting her." Emmett said, voicing my own speculations.

"Perhaps, I have no way of knowing." I shook my head; I had felt the flicker of the affection, buried far beneath his bloodlust and his mad fervor and anger and desperate determination. Could he really have loved her? Had she really loved him? If so, how long had they been together before he started pursuing her, what had prompted it? I had no way of being certain of any of these speculations. I bit my cheek in frustration and confusion.

Carlisle had come out of the basement room and shut the door behind him, locking it as he did so.

"He's asleep, I gave him some aspirin to ease his headache and he dozed right off, he was quite exhausted." he shook his head tiredly.

"I couldn't get any real answers from him, nothing that might help us understand."

"Why exactly are we trying to hard to understand?" Emmett inquired cynically.

"Because you want to find out why he was able to beat you," I said, my voice heavy with sarcasm, he shot me a glare, Carlisle suppressed a smile, but his answer was serious.

"Because I feel that this girl needs our help, as does this young man, this Jordan. More than I originally realized."

Emmett's vocal thoughts made it quite clear that he really didn't care much either way whether a human and a Lycan needed help, but I privately agreed with Carlisle. I could tell these two were in way out of their depths, and maybe we were too. But there was something important taking root here, and Dylan and Jordan were a central part of it.

My curiosity was peeked, and I felt concern for them in a way I had not felt before entering Jordan's mind. But seeing him attack her, hearing her pleas and screams, feeling his madness, his desperate obsession, it had resonated with me. You're going soft, I told myself wistfully. Time was you wouldn't have batted an eye at some insignificant human's problems. Well, you couldn't spend time with Carlisle for almost a century and not have some of his unwavering compassion rub off on you.

"Are we going to keep him down here?" Emmett asked, eying the door distrustfully. Carlisle's brow puckered in indecision. "I am not sure. Do we even have the right to keep him here at all?"

"Well we can't just let him go!" Emmett said vehemently, "He'll devour everyone in the town!" Carlisle gave him a quelling look and he didn't continue.

"I agree, we can't let him lose, he might hurt someone." I said, "he doesn't seem malevolent at the moment, but we know for a fact that his wolf half is very different."

Carlisle agreed grimly, "well, at any rate we can't keep him in the basement-"

"Can't we?" Emmett added scathingly, no one acknowledged this.

"We'll have to let him out into the main house at some point, just keep them apart, and keep him under careful watch until we get to the bottom of this whole affair."

"Edward has some entertaining ideas, maybe you should listen to them," a mocking chuckle was barely disguised in his voice, and not at all disguised in his thoughts. Carlisle turned to look at me curiously, "tell me." He said seriously.

Next chapter should be up quite soon, and I really appreciate all the questions and support I've been getting, I like knowing people actually care enough and like it enough to let me know what they think, so thank you everyone. Keep up your good work and I'll keep up mine! REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter sixteen

Dylan's POV:

(Two years ago…)

We stood in the dimly lit entrance to the restaurant, waiting for someone to come and seat us. It was a smallish place, quiet and laid back, the sort of place that had chipped tabletops tempered with stylish retro movie posters and exotic potted plants. I shivered slightly in the overly air-conditioned atmosphere, rubbing my bare arms where the hairs were standing on end.

"Are you cold?" he asked, eying me curiously, "a little," I said, shaking my head to convey that it wasn't a big deal. A slim waiter in a green apron emerged from within the dining room and approached us, "Hello," he said pleasantly, looking Jordan up and down (he was several inches shorter) and then turning to look at me, his mouth twitching at my tense posture, my arms wrapped around my chest for warmth. He looked back at Jordan who, being taller and older, was assumed to be the one to address.

"I'm sorry sir, but the restaurant will be closing in an hour and a half or so. We can seat you if you like but I'm afraid you won't be able to stay as long as you might like."

"That's alright, we won't be long."

"Of course, well then please step this way,"

He led us into a nearly empty dining room and situated us at a side table in the corner, under soft yellow lamplight and a framed black and white poster for "North By Northwest."

"Are you expecting anyone else?" The waiter raised his eyebrows slightly as he said this, a subtle insinuation present in the casual way he asked. "No," Jordan responded tonelessly, not picking up on the implication that we were on some kind of date. He pulled out his seat and sat down, gesturing for me to sit across from him. I slid into the chair and didn't take my eyes off him; the waiter introduced himself as Eric and asked if we wanted anything to drink.

"Are you still serving coffee?" Jordan asked, looking up at him, he nodded, his mouth turning up at the corners, evidently two teenagers stumbling into a café at two in the morning asking after coffee indicated the worst, namely being totally slammed and too drunk to find their way home. I frowned at the assumption and looked down at my menu. "Then we'll have two cups," Jordan finished, apparently ignoring the waiter's look. He nodded and strolled away toward the kitchen.

"I don't need coffee," I said, peering at him over the edge of my menu, he smiled slightly, "but I do, and you need the sugar and the caffeine,"

I shrugged, awkward. I was feeling a little dizzy, and the cold wasn't helping.

I looked back down at the paper in my hand; Eric was coming back toward us with two mugs and a pitcher of milk. He set them down and asked "are we ready to order?"

I wasn't all that hungry but I knew Jordan was waiting for me to speak, I looked up, "I'll have the Spanish omelet," why not start breakfast early? I had the coffee already, and I wasn't likely to get a real breakfast at home.

"The grilled chicken, please," Jordan said, handing his menu back to Eric as he finished copying this down. He placed a basket of bread sticks on the table, giving me a coy half smile as he did so, and walked away again, leaving me with nothing to contemplate but the movie poster and my companion. "You should have ordered more," he told me, "you need the energy,"

"I'm really fine, I'm not hungry." He frowned a little, but said nothing.

I took several packages of sugar from the container on the tabletop and poured them into one of the cups, adding a splash of milk and stirring slowly.

I pushed aside my spoon and sipped slowly, holding the warm mug with both hands and breathing in the smell before I drank. It was heady and rich, smooth going down, I took another sip, suddenly glad I'd let him order it. The caffeine helped draw me a little farther out of my stupefied state.

"Eat too," he gestured at the bread sticks, I raised my eyebrows at him. "I am capable of eating of my own accord, I don't need prompting." His mouth tugged up into a captivating half smile. He pushed the bread sticks towards me and I sighed and took one out, breaking off a piece and nibbling listlessly.

"Do you feel alright?" he asked, I nodded. "Still cold?"

I shrugged. I had stopped shivering.

He leaned back in his chair and studied me silently, a peculiar expression on his face. Perhaps he was waiting for me to ambush him with questions or break down in tears or something, but I was content to let him make the first move. In the calm, mundane setting of the restaurant it was harder to summon all the inquires and theories I'd mustered in the car, they seemed ridiculous and paranoid, in this normal setting it was harder to pick up on the strange aura he'd radiated before. I didn't want to be the one to broach the topic again, though I desperately wanted answers.

"What's your full name?" he asked suddenly, picking up his coffee with one hand and still maintaining eye contact with me.

"Dylan Winchester," I made a face, my last name made me sound stuffy and old fashioned. "And you?"

"My last name is Wright."

"Jordan Wright, " I said, fitting him to the name. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen," he answered, "You?"

"Fourteen."

"You look older,"

"I get that a lot, too tall for my age." I actually wasn't that much taller than most other girls my age, but there was enough of a difference to be noticed. He cocked his head to the side, studying me again. "No, its not your height, its your voice, I think. Not American…" he paused, "English, London I'd guess."

"Right,"

"What brought you here?"

"A plane," was that a joke I just uttered? Perhaps the daze was wearing off. He smiled a little and raised his eyebrows, implying he wanted the truth.

"You really don't want my whole pathetic life story," I said, crossing my legs and kicking the leg of my chair lightly with my heel. He scrutinized me; it made me blush to have his beautiful eyes focused solely on me. "Try me," I rolled my eyes a little, gave him the sour version I reserved for school introductions when teacher's tried to be overly-understanding:

"I moved here two months ago with my mother and my twin sister. We live in a crap apartment above an organic market downtown, which my mother claims is temporary but which I know translates into we'll be here until she can scrape together enough money to get us back to London, which may be never as she has no job to speak of. I work part time at the organic market to make rent and the landlord is very close to throwing us out. We came here because my mother's latest boyfriend got offered a supposed "big break" at an advertising company that went under about two weeks after we got here, he took off shortly after that. My father left when I was six, I haven't seen him since and I heard he drank himself to death."

I took another sip of my coffee as I finished this account and stared at him, slightly amused by his expression. I tapped my boot heel against my chair again, approximating the rhythm of "Take a Walk on the Wild Side" as I finished off the liquid in my mug.

"Well you don't seem very upset about any of that," he said, raising his eyebrows questioningly. I shook my head, "I'm not, there's very little I can actually do about it so why mope?"

"Very sensible." He frowned as he said this, leaned forward a little, "but walking around this city alone at one thirty in the morning is not."

"I was waiting for the bus,"

"Indeed, and did it never occur to you that you could be in danger and that you would have been better off calling for a ride?"

"We don't have a car."

"You could have taken the subway,"

"Is that safer?" he frowned, got him there.

"I can take care of myself," I said, a little defensively.

"Yes, from where I was standing it seemed you had things completely under control." Was he mocking me? I couldn't suppress a shiver at his words, "I was scared, and- I don't know, hypnotized or something. I couldn't run." His expression grew dark and he muttered, "yes, I know. You were very lucky."

"Lucky you came along," he frowned at that, looked away from me, "So it seems." He said darkly. I lounged back a little in my chair and stretched out my long legs, brushing his leg as I did so, a little shiver of electricity passed through me at the touch.

At that moment Eric came back and placed two plates down on the table, giving me a sidelong look as he picked up the empty coffee cups, his eyes straying to my short black skirt and bare legs. I crossed them again defensively, and narrowed my eyes. He smiled smugly and asked, "Would you like anything else to drink with that?"

"More coffee will be fine," Jordan said from behind him. Eric nodded, brought two fresh cups, and left, glancing back at me once.

"What a sleaze," I said, shaking my head in disgust, and poking at my food with a fork. To my surprise Jordan smiled a little at that, "surely you're used to that sort of thing?" I blushed, shook my head.

I really was used to it, but that didn't make it any less irritating. Guys always seemed to think I was something special, and always seemed to think they were the guy to find out why. It wasn't because I was pretty- my sister was pretty, truly and purely, and guys mostly acted shy around her.

It was because I was tall and skinny with long legs and combat boots, because I was outgoing and approachable. Guys seemed to take this as a sign of sexiness, or something like it, and weren't at all shy around me. It was confidence, not beauty that they found appealing. Eric looked at me and saw a short skirt and bare shoulders, a hookup he could fantasize about, but not something he'd want to pursue as an actual relationship. And that made quite a difference. Not that I wanted Eric's attention anymore than I wanted that of the many other guys who smiled at me that way, there were however, other guys I might want to look at me that way…

"You're very beautiful," he told me earnestly, making me blush deeper, "you shouldn't think less of yourself."

"You're quite forward," I whispered, interlacing my fingers in my lap and looking down at them, not wanting to meet his gaze lest still more heat rise to my face. "I'm honest," I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Are you?"

I looked up at him, a slight challenge in my words. He smiled at me, the soft yellow light turning his emerald eyes to topaz, glinting off his hair. He was very handsome, and the smile sent a little flutter of excitement and pleasure through my insides. "Usually," he said, reaching forward to unroll his silverware from the napkin and cut into his steaming food. He looked up at me pointedly, "eat," he ordered, pointing at my plate. I sighed and speared a bit of egg and onion on my fork, lifting it to my mouth exaggeratedly.

"Okay then, if you're honest, then you'll answer my questions, right?"

His eyes darkened warily; evidently he'd thought I'd forgotten all my questions. Fat chance. "I was hoping you would let that go," he said coolly, but there was a faint warning in his voice, he really wanted me to let this drop, his eyes were pleading with me to change the subject, I wouldn't give in.

"I'm afraid not." I said, shaking my head in half hearted amusement. "You said you'd tell me-"

"I said I _might_ tell you." He reminded me, I opened my mouth in indignation, but he shook his head, "can't you just move on with your life? This has nothing to do with you,"

"How can you say that? I was nearly killed by…whatever they were. They were going to eat me!" he winced as I said this but I went on, I would not be tricked out of the information I so desperately craved, though I dimly regretted breaking the comfortable feeling between us, we were heading into dangerous territory now, and his face was closing off again.

"You said you'd tell me,"

"I was humoring you!" he said exasperatedly, lifting his hands in vexation. "You were frightened and shocked, I didn't want you aggravating yourself, I wanted you to be comfortable with me-"

"I am! I'm not afraid of you, I want to trust you. Why won't you just tell me the truth?"

"You're not afraid of me?" he repeated, catching my gaze fiercely, taking me off guard with the intensity of his gaze. "No, why would I be?" I didn't mention the feeling of power and danger that had radiated from his skin like heat in the car, I'd known I should be afraid of him then, but I hadn't been, and I wasn't now.

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, twisting his lips in frustration and disbelief. "You should be afraid of me, you should be afraid of them!"

"I am-"

"Then why do you want to know about them?"

"Why don't you want me to?"

I knew I sounded petulant and childish, I knew he was trying to be reasonable with me, but all I could focus on was that he was going back on his word, he'd let me think he was going to tell me, now he was trying to get out of it.

He growled in irritation and sat back in his chair angrily, gazing at me with narrowed eyes. "You are being ridiculous," he stated, crossing his arms and setting his mouth in a defiant frown. "You are being evasive and condescending!" I returned snappishly, adopting a similar posture and feeling my cheeks heat with anger.

"I am trying to look out for your best interests, something you don't seem to care much about, since you can't seem to keep yourself from poking into things that are not only none of your business, but also extremely dangerous!"

"Fine!" I glared, clenching my fists in my lap below the table, who knew he could be so infuriating?

"Excuse me for a moment, won't you?" I said coldly, getting up from my chair and heading towards the bathroom, he stared after me with narrowed eyes. I closed the door with a snap and leaned against the sink with a huff, peering close at my reflection in the tinted glass of the mirror, breathing slowly. My cheeks were red with pent up anger, my eyes were over bright, there were gray circles forming beneath them. I looked at my watch, it was almost three. My mother would be panicked out of her mind; my sister would be fighting to keep her from calling out a search party. I took out my cell phone and dialed my sister's cell number, she picked up after half a ring.

"Dylan?"

"Yea, hi,"

"Where the hell are you? Mum is driving me up the wall!"

"Sorry, I got, um, sidetracked, I missed the bus, I'm eating right now, Tell her I'll take the subway home, alright?"

"She won't like that,"

"I know, but it'll take a while for me to get back, just make something up,"

"What's wrong, you sound mad,"

"Nothing, I'm just a little flustered. I'll be home before morning, ok?"

"It is morning,"

"Oh,"

"You owe me big time,"

"I know, I'll see you later, ok?"

"Yea, love you,"

"Bye."

She hung up. I put the phone away, and splashed cold water onto my face. It did nothing to ease my anger. I would go home now, I decided, leave my cagey companion to finish his meal alone and contemplate the shortcomings of being a snobby two-faced- ug, there wasn't even a word for it! A small corner of my brain told me I was being over dramatic and bratty, but I had no ears for that sort of criticism. Another tiny voice reminded me that I'd been warned not to go off on my own tonight, but I didn't listen to that either. What did he know? He was full of empty bluster and paranoia, I would be fine.

I unlocked the door and walked out into the entranceway, which could not be seen from the dining room, and headed towards the door. "Leaving?" Eric asked curiously, stepping aside as I opened the door. I gave him a scathing look, "yes, what does it look like?"

"Without your date?"

"He's not my date," I snapped, stomping out onto the sidewalk and stalking away from the café without a backwards glance.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter seventeen

Jordan's POV:

I sat at the small table quietly seething. I knew she was just as annoyed with me as I was with her, it had been almost comical watching the blood rise to her face as she grit her teeth and glared at me, like a child preparing to throw a tantrum. It would have been funny to watch had I not been so vexed myself. Who knew an insignificant human could be so argumentative and frustrating?

Of course I was not only angry at her childish stubbornness, I was also scolding myself. I hadn't thought about the consequences of my actions this evening, and now I had to deal with an overly curious teenage girl.

I hadn't intended to help her when I passed the alley. I'd sensed them as soon as I turned onto the street, and I could smell the human, a lovely smell, floral and sweet, but I hadn't planned on doing anything about it. I approached the alley where I knew they stood, peered down it. The human was standing against the grimy wall, each arm clamped in the grip of one of the vampires, looking dazed and frightened. They were bickering over who would get to taste her first; she didn't make any move to escape.

She was so young, only a few years younger than I was, so delicate looking. I felt a sudden, unexpected pang of guilt and horror seeing her calmly awaiting her own death. Ordinarily I would not have made to intervene, it was no business of mine how the blood drinkers conducted their business, as a rule I avoided them at all costs. But in a sudden fit of bizarre altruism (not a concept I had much experience with) I stalked forward and pulled her from their grasps, drawing her out of the alley and away from them. They had made to stop me, but backed off at my warning, recognizing me as a real threat.

In fact, the full moon was still two days away, which increased my strength and Lycan related abilities, but did not give me the power to fully transform. But I suppose immortal creatures such as those do not pay much attention to moon phases or the passing of time, it is not the same for them.

I didn't want to leave the human alone; they were sure to pursue her the moment she was out of my sight. It would be dawn soon, and they needed to feed before the sunlight made that impossible. They could take any human they chose, and might well settle for another in the short time they had, except I had angered them. They would not easily forget the human who got away, if given the chance; they would come after her again.

But still, I had no idea what I was supposed to do with her, keep her with me obviously, get her somewhere safe until the sun rose, but the technicalities of that were beyond me.

She was surely terrified, and obviously in some kind of shocked trance, I didn't know how to snap her out of it. Food, I assumed, was the best way to deal with shock, it returned the body to normal functions and helped ease the tension. But I hadn't expected so much blatant curiosity from her, so many questions. I had hoped she would simply go along with all I told her and not question the unsavory events that had just occurred, but she didn't. She was full of peculiar curiosities, seemingly enthralled with the idea of understanding the creatures in the alley, and me.

I was shocked by her directness, her unabashed interest. It made me uncomfortable when she asked about her scent, about me. I wasn't used to explaining this sort of thing to humans. In an attempt to still the flow of questions I let her think I would explain, assuming she would drop it once we entered into more normal settings and she could revert to regular behavior.

But she'd surprised me again, she was as persistent as ever, even hostile when I told her I had no intention of exposing her to such knowledge. And now- now she was angry with me, she had stomped off to the bathroom to spurn me, and I was as irritated as she was. I'd never met such an infuriating human-or such a charming one.

She was only two years my junior, and more mature than I would have expected. Despite our closeness of age she was a mystery to me.

I was made a Lycan six years ago, bitten by a lone werewolf roaming my town during the full moon. My parents had been horrified when I transformed, they had wanted nothing more to do with me, I ran away from home when I was eleven. Due to my various travels and my peculiar circumstances, I had never had much interaction with people of my own age, certainly not recently.

Dylan was a riddle to me. She did not act as I expected, she was direct and shy at the same time, and too willful and clever by half. She made me laugh with her peculiar turns of phrase and comments, and she was not as helpless and meek as she had first seemed in the alley. She was also very pretty, not a trait I normally picked out in humans.

She seemed to guess that I was not as normal as I seemed, and rather than shy away from this, she had met it head on, and was pushing to understand more. That was dangerous. She had already seen far too much, she was in danger from the vampires and she was in danger from me, but she still wanted answers, answers I could not freely give.

I closed my eyes and exhaled long and slow, trying to release the anger curled in my chest like a coiled spring. It was not her fault that she had stumbled into something so dangerous, though it was her fault that she could not seem to leave well enough alone. Curiosity was not a sin, merely a complication.

It was natural for her to be inquisitive, whether or not it was in her best interest, and I recognized that it was unfair of me to manipulate the circumstances as I had. I should not have let her believe she would receive the answers she wanted. I should have pretended I knew nothing of it, or told her immediately that no such answers would be forthcoming. But I'd wanted to calm her, and I'd wanted her to feel at ease with me, even though I knew it was dangerous to trick her in such a way.

I would apologize, and I would make it quite clear that the information she sought was dangerous, and that she was not to delude herself in thinking I would tell her. I would make my peace with her, and keep her safe until dawn, then take her home. I felt a slight pang of unhappiness at the idea of letting her go, I had enjoyed her company more than I had expected, I didn't want to let her walk out of my life so soon. But I knew it was for the best. I could have nothing more to do with her; it would only bring more danger upon her.

I sighed heavily and looked up from my contemplation of the black coffee in front of me, going cold. I glanced in the direction Dylan had stalked off in, hoping she would return in a slightly more forgiving mood. I got up and took several bills from my pocket and placed them under the coffee cup, I had finished my meal, and Dylan had only picked at hers, she'd made it clear she was not hungry.

I did not leave a tip for the waiter, I knew it was absolutely none of my business whom Dylan associated with or who talked to her, but I'd felt an inexplicable stab of anger and jealousy when he'd looked at her with a bit too much interest.

I walked over to the bathroom door and knocked lightly,

"Dylan," I said clearly, "Dylan, it's me, please come out." There was no answer, I returned to the table and waited, fearing an even more hostile mood than before. Two minutes passed, I looked toward the dining room entrance again, a sudden prickling of suspicion running up my spine. She had been in there for some time, she seemed to be taking this a little far… or something was wrong.

I got up quickly and went to the door again, this time not bothering to knock. The door was unlocked; there was no one inside, but her scent wafted in the air above the reek of tile cleaner and Lysol. I closed the door sharply and approached the skinny waiter who'd been serving us, standing at his ease near the doorway.

"Sir, the restaurant will be closing shortly, I'm sorry, but you will have to leave soon," he began to say but I cut him off, speaking in a low whisper, "the girl I was with, the teenager with dark hair, have you seen her?"

"She left, about fifteen minutes ago."

"Did she say where she was going?"

"Not to me, sir"

"Did you see what direction she went in?"

"That way, I think," He pointed to the left side of the doors, back up the street. I stalked out and took a ragged breath of the smog-riddled air, trying to pick out her smell from the jumble of other scents and aromas wafting in the air. I moved quickly down the street, stopped at the corner, turned left, catching the vague trace of honeysuckle on the dank air.

I could feel frustration and anger combined with rising panic building in my head like steam, I struggled to keep my thoughts from running away with me entirely. How could she have gone off on her own? When I'd told her, I'd specifically warned her, that she was not safe alone, that they would track her down again. This is your own fault, I raged, you didn't tell her the truth, she doesn't understand how dangerous they are, and she never would have gone off if she hadn't been angry with you, she wasn't thinking things through!

I followed her scent down another street, my steps growing faster with every turn I made. I couldn't stand to think what would happen if they found her before I did.

Dylan's POV:

I found a dingy subway entrance about ten blocks away from the restaurant, took the grimy steps two at a time and ducked into the dimly lit tunnel. There was no one else waiting on the platform, the only person in sight was a homeless man curled up on a pile of newspapers near the entrance to the street.

I swiped my metro card through the graffitied kiosk and stood on the brink of the black tunnel, the next metro line downtown was due in ten minutes. The murky fluorescent lights flickered above me, never a constant source of brightness, casting rather a fuggy half-light as they buzzed and sputtered, rendering strips of the walls and ceiling in harsh shadows while the rest of the space was shone on by the dim yellowish glow.

I could hear faint dripping echoing in the tunnel, and the indistinct rumblings of traffic above, other than that there was no sound. Nothing moved save the flickering lights, and I thought I glimpsed something shift in the shadows, but when I turned again there was nothing. I expelled a slow breath, stared at the darkness of the tunnel.

My anger was trickling away in small rivulets, I was regretting not thinking my decision all the way through, and I felt a pang of guilt and unhappiness at the revelation that I would probably never see Jordan again. Ours was a chance meeting, a fluke, and I had ended it sooner than I would have liked. I doubted I would ever encounter him again. I bit my lip at the unexpected disappointment that was seeping through me. Ridiculous, I didn't know him at all, we had hardly even spoken…

"It seems the tables have turned in our favor, Charles. Look who's given the Lycan the slip," I felt an icy hand descend on my shoulder, I jerked in surprise and the fingers tighten, gripping hard enough to bruise.

I was pulled away from the edge of the platform, I dug my heels in and tried to wrench myself out of the stone hold, but I was dragged as easily as if I were a doll trailing on the floor in a child's grip. I felt the hand release my arm and I made a frantic bolt for the stairs. Before I'd gotten three feet a hard arm snaked around my waist, snatching me back so fast I was knocked breathless.

"Foolish human-delicious, but foolish." The soft voice sent ripples of panic shooting through my body, I felt myself trembling. The man drew me closer into his marble embrace and breathed in raggedly, licking his lips. "Why ever did you leave the mongrel, my dear? Walking right into our waiting arms, that was not the wisest move on your part."

I struggled feverishly but I couldn't summon any real strength, a seductive scent more addictive than anything I'd ever smelled was coiling around my face, freezing my lungs and making me drowsy.

"Don't you dare, Charles, I found her this time, it's my kill," her voice was low and syrupy, but cold as iron. Goose bumps prickled my skin, I was feeling like I might faint, or throw up, or my heart might just explode in my chest from fear. "Calm yourself, Annette, I just want a small bite,"

He caught my wrist and drew it up to his face, chuckling softly as my breathing became even more erratic, I was almost gasping for air. He moved his grip to my forearm, exposing the tender skin of my inner wrist, the fine tracery of purple veins barely visible beneath it. He pulled it closer and inhaled deeply, smiling to himself, "delicious, but foolish," he repeated softly, drawing my hand to his cold mouth.

I heard an inhuman shriek from behind me at the exact second something sharp as glass scraped my skin, making me gasp in pain. I was whipped around as Charles spun, his grip still tight. Someone was battling with the slender, raven-haired form of Annette, her harsh screams echoed and refracted around the tunnel, piercing my ears. She writhed and slashed like a tiger against her pale human antagonist. I gave a cry of shock as I saw who the opponent was, tried to reach out to him. Charles twisted my wrist ferociously; I screamed as he pressed his lips to my skin again, hard razor teeth sank into my flesh.

I was thrown to the ground suddenly, my arm and shoulder striking hard against the gritty cement. I let my head loll on the stone, whimpering as I held my bleeding wrist to my chest, cradling it, closing my eyes and wishing I could close my ears against the horrific sounds of yowling, tearing, screaming. I was sure someone above the tunnel could hear it, someone would come…

Someone grabbed my shoulder, I wanted to kick or fight back but I couldn't make my limbs do what I wanted. I was pulled to my feet and slammed against a stone wall…

Jordan's POV:

"Dylan, Dylan!"

I was yelling I knew, panic searing my voice to a raw gruffness. I was dizzy and weak and frenzied with battle rage, and I was terrified I was too late, terrified she had been sucked dry, in a matter of seconds.

She was breathing, or rather, gasping, her face had gone ashen and I could feel her shivering beneath my fingers.

"Are you alright?" I demanded, staring down at her, my voice still too loud. She opened her mouth to speak and couldn't seem to find words. She nodded once. Knowing that she was alive, my concern and panic turned suddenly to anger. I gripped her hands tightly, pressing her against the wall.

"What the hell is the matter with you, you could have gotten yourself killed!" she flinched as I yelled, it didn't occur to me that I was frightening her.

"I told you- I told you to stay with me, I told you it wasn't safe, and you left anyway! Are you insane!"

She didn't answer, I was working myself up into something not-quite rage, not-quite desperation, but full of anguished passion. Horror and panic and fury and guilt and consternation had all melded together, but anger was the easiest to draw on. I felt betrayed, as if she had gotten herself caught out of spite, or out of scorn for my help, my concern, as if this were my fault. My mind was a whirlwind, I couldn't stop to pick out what made sense, there was blood pounding in my ears.

"How am I supposed to protect you if you run away from me, how am I supposed to keep you safe! You just don't think, you didn't think at all and you nearly fucking died! Do you understand that? If I'd come down here a second later, you would be dead!" I stopped, out of breath, my pulse pounding, heat rising in my face. I stared at her, still pressed against the wall, her hands clenched in mine, and her eyes…

My breath snagged as I looked into her face, her eyes were huge and bright with unshed tears, her mouth was clenched shut, the corners were trembling, all the color had drained from her cheeks. She looked terrified. And I suddenly grasped that it was not only terror of what had just happened- it was fear of me, standing over her, clutching her arms to a wall, screaming at her. I dropped her hands as if they were on fire and stepped away, staring at her. All the rage drained from my voice, horror and shame and regret taking the place of the burning fire that had been blazing only moments before.

She didn't move from her spot against the wall, she stared at me, brought her hands together, clutched one wrist with her other hand. She cracked her lips open; a faint, hoarse whisper issued out. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice quavered, her chest was rising and falling much too fast, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

That hit me like a blow to the head. She shouldn't be apologizing, I should be begging for _her_ forgiveness, forgiveness for acting so harshly, so unfairly, forgiveness for nearly letting her be killed. I had lashed out in misplaced anger and pent up panic, I hadn't meant to blame her.

And then I realized that she was crying, her breath hitched as water trickled down her cheeks like quicksilver, she bent her head down and bit her lip, trying to hold back the shuddering sobs, her dark hair fell into her face and her shoulders shook. I felt as if the tears might burn like acid, I was horrified; each wet gasp stabbed me like a dagger.

Without thinking I reached for her again and pulled her shuddering body closer, wrapping my arms around her arched back and pressing her against my chest. She didn't resist as I hugged her closer, she turned her head and leaned it against my shoulder and sobbed wretchedly, I felt the warm moisture soaking into the fabric of my shirt. She finally ran out of tears, she inhaled gruffly, trembling. I stroked her back soothingly, relaxing the tight muscles and arched spine, feeling her weight collapse into itself as she released the tension, her breathing becoming more regular.

"I'm sorry," I whispered over her head. Her cheek still rested against my shoulder, I couldn't see her face, only the top of her head. "I didn't mean to blame you- you didn't do anything wrong- I was just so scared- I thought you-" No response, I pursed my lips, struggling for the right words. "Sometimes I lose my temper, but I never meant to scare you, and I am very sorry. I don't want you to be afraid of me; I want you to feel safe with me. Can you forgive me?"

She didn't speak, I couldn't see her expression to know what she was thinking, my heart sank horribly. "Dylan?"

"Thank you," she said softly, still not shifting her head from its place against my chest, not moving. "I'm not upset, and I'm not afraid of you," I let out an almost undetectable breath of relief, ran my fingers down her back again, feeling the dull heartbeat through her ribcage.

"I think I'm going to faint," she whispered after a second. I stiffened and pushed her back a little to see her face. "What's the matter?" I asked sharply, panic edging my voice. She opened her mouth to speak and I suddenly caught the smell of honeysuckle, more potent than it had been previously. I hadn't noticed how strong it was, but now my eyes flew to the fingers she had tightly wound around her right wrist.

She jerked back a fraction but didn't resist as I unclenched her grip and turned her hand palm up so that I could see the wound. Teeth marks wound the outline of a jagged, deep cut. Not the clean, straight cut of a knife, but the sunken, gory shape that showed where powerful teeth had torn in. The flesh and skin had been ripped away, the vein had been pierced, and blood was flowing slowly, winding its way in erratic, thin fault lines down her palm and fingers, staining her entire hand red.

"He did this to you?" I whispered, staring at the bloody bite that marred her arm like a brand, the hand I held was trembling. She nodded tightly, swallowing. I stared for a second, fury and horror struggling for dominance in my head, but suddenly both were extinguished by overwhelming worry. I yanked off my coat and then my white t-shirt, tearing the shirt into strips and hurriedly wrapped them around her wrist, trying to stop the bleeding.

"You need to go to a hospital,"

"No," she shook her head, "they'll want to know…what happened."

I clenched my jaw in frustration, recognizing the logic of this point, tied another strip of cotton around her arm. "I can clean it at home," she said vaguely, raising her other hand to rub her eyes heavily.

"Are you sure you don't want to see a doctor, you could make something up…"

I trailed off, what would they believe had bitten her wrist? The shape of the wound was clearly that of a human mouth, there would be questions that we could not answer.

"I'll take you home," I said, pulling on my coat over my bare chest and taking her hand in mine and guiding her toward the stairs that led up to the city.

"Do you have to leave me?"

The question surprised me; I froze mid-step, looked at her slowly. "No," I said hesitantly, meeting her gaze, I paused-"Not if you don't want me to."

"I don't. I want to stay with you." I felt a peculiar tingling rising in my chest, my thoughts spun.

"Then I'll stay." I said softly, my eyes not shifting from her tender face. She smiled slightly, her expression dazed and vague, tiredness etched in every line of her face, but intent on me, her eyes not leaving mine.

"Good," she whispered gently, stepping closer and leaning in slowly, brushing her lips against mine as lightly as a snowflake. I froze for a second, hesitant, then lowered my head, pressing against her mouth, feeling her lips part and the warm breath rush into my mouth like a sweet breeze. Her slender hands rose to gently encircle my neck, I drew her closer, not wanting to sever the connection between our lips, warm floods of pleasure emanated through my body, I ran my fingers through her hair, closed my eyes…


	18. Chapter 18 the real one

Chapter eighteen

Dylan's POV:

I woke up several hours after dawn. Pale, dreary light filtered in through the great glass wall at the front of the room, casting pallid brightness into my eyes. I stretched my stiff legs, wincing a little as I felt the stitches tug in my calf, and pulled myself to my feet. I walked forward to the huge window and peered out at the porch and the woods.

The meager light leeched the intensity from the green of the pines and grass, clouds were already moving in to obscure the pale sun. Was it ever sunny in this place? In the week or so I'd been traveling in this area there had been nothing but bleak clouds and rain, it reminded me of London, and made me long for the Southern California desert- for the scorching heat and the fire season in October and the blank blue sky. It had been a while since I'd been able to enjoy any of those things without looking over my shoulder like a frightened rabbit, waiting for the predator I knew was lurking. The outdoors were his territory, he had most advantages there, in fact he had most advantages everywhere- but I had some…

I sighed heavily and rubbed my eyes tiredly against the grey light. No- I had sworn not to use those, they were too dangerous, and I feared them, feared them more than I feared him…

I turned away from the window and stumbled out of the living room, into the spacious hallway. I glanced up at the grand sweeping staircase, I wondered if my hosts were still asleep, I was pretty sure it was still morning, but I had no idea how early it was. I didn't want to disturb them, didn't want the subject of my uncanny hunter coming up again, I would like to delay that particular conversation for as long as I could.

I found my way into the great kitchen, careful to ease the door shut behind me. Everything in this house was bright and clean, the kitchen floor was abnormally shiny and white. Standing on the brink of it I looked down guiltily at my filthy, mud-caked boots. As quietly as I could I slid them off my feet and stood in my socks, I could feel the coolness and smoothness of the floor tiles through the thin cotton. I took a step further into the silent room, ran my hands along the beautiful antique cabinets, opening them one at a time and examining their contents. My forehead creased in confusion and then sudden understanding as I made my way around the room. There was no refrigerator, no food or cooking utensils in any of the cabinets or drawers- not even a single fork. Of course not- what need did vampires have for human food? My stomach grumbled in annoyance, and I sighed and left the room, leaving my shoes near the door, I would be quieter without them.

I had food in my pack, admittedly not much, a few granola bars, a bottle of water. Meager, insubstantial fare, camper's snacks, but it was what had sustained me for months now. I unlatched the pack and extracted a silver-wrapped bar, finishing it in two bites. I dug deeper in my pack for another, my hands brushing past a blanket and a crumpled map- I had abandoned my sleeping bag and most other more cumbersome things awhile back, was it in Portland, or Carson City? They all seemed melded together now, like photographs that had been warped and dulled by water and time, unrecognizable.

My hand found something slim and long, I grabbed at it and pulled it out, but it wasn't a granola bar. It was my knife.

An old knife, I'd dug it out of an antique shop in Oakland, it had been part of a set, they had cost me a hundred and twenty bucks to have, but they were worth it, the blades were pure silver and in mint condition. But I had lost the other one; Jordan had taken it from me and thrown it away outside of Seattle. I pulled it out of the black sheath and ran my thumb along the flat side of the blade, smooth as water and as long as my hand, with a jet handle.

Three times I'd had to use this one, and it had saved my life on all three occasions. I imagined I could still see his blood smeared on the metal, its vivid red color had made me shudder, I'd wanted to vomit and hurl it away from me as if it were deadly poison. I shivered as I remember this, it had been used in self-defense, but it still made my blood run cold when I thought of how I had stabbed him, how the silver had pierced his skin with such ease, how he'd howled in pain.

"You may want to be careful with that," the voice made me jump and I nearly dropped the knife in surprise, but caught myself, sliding it back into its sheath with a snap and whipping around to look up at the person who had slid silently into the room.

The beautiful boy- the youngest one, the one with bronze-colored hair. It took me a second to remember his name- Edward. I didn't say anything, gazed at him without blinking. I didn't know what to say, I wanted to offer some explanation, like a guilty child caught playing with things she shouldn't, but I didn't know what would sound plausible.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, with the barest suggestion of wry amusement hidden behind the concern and politeness of the words.

"Yes," I said, and it was true. Gone was the aching, stabbing pain, the feeling of nausea and dizziness. There was only the barest twinge of discomfort in my shoulder and calf where there had once been throbbing pain that tormented me night and day. I wanted to express my gratitude, but words seemed inadequate, and besides, it was Carlisle who had healed my wounds- but it was Edward who had defended me against the Lycan twice in one night.

"Thank you for doing all of this, for taking me in," I said sincerely, feeling faintly awkward and embarrassed, but wanting to get it out all the same. He shook his head gracefully and smiled a dazzling, cool half smile. "Not at all, it's been quite an interesting experience." Interesting, if he said so.

"We talked to the Lycan, Jordan." He said in a slightly off hand manner, as if he were just making conversation. My skin prickled at once and I knew this was the reason he'd come to speak to me. This family was kind and generous, but they recognized that there was something strange, even dangerous, about what they had gotten themselves into. They wanted answers- he wanted answers from me.

"Oh," I said, looking away from him and slipping the knife back into my pack.

"He seems much more… humane."

"Well he is human at the moment." I said, forgetting to act aloof. Edward smiled again, a very seductive smile, full of hidden depth; I could understand why girls would swoon at him, why Bella was so besotted with him. Neither of them had said anything to confirm it, but I could tell from the way they acted, the way they spoke to one another and the way their eyes met- they were more than friends. I myself only felt the vaguest flutter of girlish pleasure when he smiled at me, he was beyond beautiful, but his heart belonged to someone else… as did mine.

"Indeed he is, I merely meant that it is quite a different personality from the one he exhibited in his wolf form." Too true.

"He seems to be doing much better also, that clout you gave him only resulted in a minor concussion, and everything else seems in working order, he should be up and about by tomorrow." Goody, can't wait. I didn't respond verbally to this and he turned his head a little, studying me from a different angle.

"Apparently he is not limited by the phases of the moon, he can transform whenever he chooses, which is an astounding feat. Obviously this presents something of a danger, but he seems quite in control at the moment, and we can restrain him if he does revert back to his other half. So you can rest assured no harm will come to you while you are here."

Still no response, I surveyed him shrewdly, he was subtle, he wasn't going to come out and demand the information he wanted, I would put him out of his misery.

"So did you get your answers?"

He raised an eyebrow, he hadn't expected me to cut to the chase, he was expecting some resistance, an effort to change the subject, but I wasn't one to beat around the bush. He already had some information; it wasn't worth it to pretend we were both oblivious.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean did he answer all the questions I wouldn't- if he knows me, why he's hunting me, all that?"

"You get right to the point."

"And you skirt it." I challenged. His eyes glinted with something between amusement and annoyance; a small mocking smile tugged his flawless lips.

"I was told not to agitate you, Carlisle said you needed rest."

"Do I look agitated?"

"Not particularly,"

I leveled my gaze with his, I appreciated all the help these people were giving me, I really did, but I was getting fed up with their inquires, it had nothing to do with them, didn't they see that it was dangerous, that I was dangerous? Why couldn't they leave well enough alone?

"Because we're trying to help you," he said softly, I blinked, felt a tiny prick of confusion and fear tingle in my chest, "excuse me?"

"You were thinking why we couldn't leave well enough alone, the answer is because we are trying to help you."

Another little spasm of fear, like an electric sizzle in my veins, but not enough fear to make me draw away from him as he shrugged off the door frame and came to sit beside me.

"How do you know that?" I asked, it came out a little hoarse.

He tapped his forehead lightly, "I have certain talents that help me understand people." A brief pause, I was trying to wrap my tongue around the words I wanted to speak, I forced them out.

"You can read minds?"

"In a manner of speaking, its more a matter of hearing than reading, but you get the idea."

"You can hear everyone, everything they think, no matter who?"

"Yes, with very few exceptions." Here he smiled a little, more internal than external, thinking of something beyond the present conversation.

"So," I said slowly, my reckless directness knocked out of me by the knowledge that he could hear every thought that entered my head, "if you can read my mind, why did you bother questioning me, or Jordan? You could have gotten the answers you wanted without even asking."

"I could," he agreed quietly, "but you are different, Dylan, you can block me out. At least in certain aspects, the most prominent being, I cannot hear anything in your mind that might tell me what you know about your werewolf hunter, which is why I am forced to be round-about and ask the old fashioned way." He smiled slightly, but it was forced, I could tell he was frustrated.

I let out a sharp breath, a breath of mingled relief, and horror. So it was still there, even after I had shunned it for so long, even after I had sworn I would never use it again, it was still there, and in a new way, a way I had never even been aware of….

I suppressed a shiver and forced myself to ask "what about Jordan?"

We weren't safe yet, apparently my mind was protected, but his might not be.

"The same. And I see this as more than coincidental, it is intriguing that you both can protect certain sections of your minds from my prying." He raised his eyebrows, inviting me to ask something.

"Well, I'd say that's a good thing," his eyes glinted in that peculiar way again, annoyance tempered with humor, I kept going, I needed to make him understand, even if I gave myself away, "you really don't know what you are doing, this is not something you can fix, so please, for your own good, stop trying, before someone gets hurt."

I think he could hear the underlying panic in my voice, my perpetual fear that I would get too close to someone and they would be sucked into this hell, the way my family was, the way these people were starting to be. He frowned slightly and tilted his head again, surveying my face.

"We can help you,"

"You can't" I contradicted quietly, with the weight of experience and despair like gravel at the back of my throat.

"Why do you think that?"

"Because…" Why? What a question, how to explain…

"Because it's impossible. It's too complicated; it's been going on for too long, you couldn't make a difference even if you spent your whole life trying to fix it. I appreciate what you're trying to do, and what you've done, I really do. You saved my life and I'm grateful, but as soon as I'm ready to leave- I will, and I can't let you try to stop me, or try to interfere anymore, you'll only get hurt. I'm fucked, that's all it comes down to, and I don't want to drag other people down with me."

I could feel tears stinging my eyes but I pushed them back fiercely, I would not cry. I didn't want to look into his angelic face and see the thoughts there- more than anything I just wanted to lay down and sleep until this all fell away.

"Do you love him?" he asked, so quietly I almost didn't hear him; I turned fiercely and glared at him in horror and disbelief.

"What?" my voice was as soft as his, and edgy, on the brink of breaking like a shard of brittle glass.

"Do you love Jordan? Did you ever? Were you two together before he started hunting you?"

Ice was flooding my veins, making me want to shudder, making me want to cry even more, how on earth did he know that if he couldn't read my mind? I clenched my hands into fists in my lap- say no, say no! A little voice in my head was shrieking, all my senses of self-preservation were urging me to deny this, though the logic behind them was a mystery to me. What did it matter if they knew, really? What difference would it make? They would be closer than ever to unraveling the truth, they would put themselves in more danger, they would put me in more danger. The truth always complicates things…

"Why would you say something like that?" I said, forcing the tremor out of my voice, "why would you think I loved him? He wants to murder me." I spat the last part; wanting to shatter whatever confidence he had in this idea. He didn't look phased, but he did look sad, pitying, the humor and annoyance had fled from his topaz gaze leaving only sympathy and concern. I wanted to slap the look right off his face. Who was he to pity me? How dare he act like he understood, like he could grasp how much this hurt, how the simple question he'd uttered was an iron spike driving into my heart. How dare he touch the truth like that, and make me feel like I would gladly kill myself if it would make this aching stop.

"I saw the memory of how you were attacked outside of Seattle, a momentary slip of Jordan's defenses, but it made me think…"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, looking down at my fists, I slowly unclenched my fingers and stared at the tiny crescent marks I had dug into my own palms, trying to act calm.

"You said that he loved you," he said softly, "and he agreed that he had." I didn't say anything, he continued, his voice low and velvety, "and outside, you had his smell on you," he gestured toward my face, brushing my mouth with his cold fingers, "you were flushed and you were crying, but still, your mouth was red, you had his scent on your lips. You were kissing him."

"I wasn't."

"Then why did you follow him outside in the first place? He didn't force you, he was in his human form, and you could have called for help. But you didn't. You knew him and you trusted him and you went anyway, and you kissed him."

"You're wrong."

"Do you deny that you know him, that you care about him?"

I couldn't do that, and he knew it, I hated my own weakness and sentimental foolishness, but I couldn't lie and say I didn't love him, I couldn't betray him like that, betray myself. My pathetic love was the only thing I'd managed to hold onto from my past, the memory of how wonderful it once was, of how much I cared about him. Without it I was nothing, I couldn't let go of this- my one last salvage of real feeling, my one untainted memory, my one hope. I couldn't.

"No." The word stuck in my throat, but I knew he heard it. He made to touch me, to pat my back or brush my shoulder in some gesture of comfort, but he seemed to think better of it. I sat still, a shivering concentration of contradicting feelings, he probably thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown any second. Maybe I would, that would probably ease this pain.

"Do you still love him?"

"Please go away," I whispered, feeling my chest constrict like I was suffocating.

"I don't want to upset you, Dylan," he sounded like he meant it, "I want to help you, and I want to understand. Please tell me the truth, let me help you."

He really did care, I thought vaguely, he really does want to help me. I realized it in a very detached way, like the revelation had no connection to me whatsoever.

"Please go away," I repeated, the pain in my chest giving another bitter stab, my hands trembling.

"Alright," he said, standing up fluidly and looking down at me for a moment, "you need to let people in, Dylan." He said quietly, "You need to let them help you."

"I've let people in," I said, my voice shaky, "they only hurt me in the end."

He didn't respond, left the room, as silent as a shadow, leaving me seated on the couch alone, feeling as if my entire life was crushing in around me, imploding and crumbling into itself, and I could do nothing to hold it up…

Ok I know this one wasn't too exciting but I felt like I needed to get it out anyway, for Dylan's sake if for nothing else. The next chapter should be better; sorry I've been gone for so long, I've had finals (yuck!) But I won't desert you again, at least not for a while, haha. If you want another chapter soon PLEASE REVIEW!


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter nineteen

Dylan's POV:

I was sitting there, pretty much minding my own business and having a complete emotional breakdown, when a high, fluting voice like a sparrow's sounded from the door, snapping me out of my daze,

"Dylan!"

I blinked and looked up at the source of the voice, a small toothpick of a girl, with short spiky hair and a beautiful elfin face. She was gazing at me intently with cheerful golden eyes, her flawless lips pulled up in a curious smile.

"Um hello," I responded belatedly, sniffing to dislodge the tears still trying to get loose, forcing myself to act calm and composed.

"I'm Alice, Jasper's wife, we met briefly last night, or rather saw each other,"

I nodded, "I'm Dylan," I said, realizing a second later that of course she knew that already. She smiled a little and said,

"I was wondering when you would wake up, you know," she said in a conversational tone, her face lighting up with excitement and vigor. "You humans seem to sleep ever so much, but I suppose to you it didn't seem like very long,"

"No, I guess not."

I paused, picking apart her words, then asked, "but don't you sleep too?"

She laughed, a tinkling little laugh, bordering on a giggle, "Oh no, we can't sleep, I thought you knew that."

"No, I didn't."

Jordan had never mentioned that- he had to sleep and rest just as humans did, so I'd assumed vampires did too- wrong. I filed that piece of information away for future reference.

"Well, never mind it, you're awake now. Are you hungry? You must be, you're skin and bones-"

"Thanks," I said dryly. I knew I'd lost weight, but I hadn't paid much attention to it, I had bigger things to worry about. I had always been skinny, but hiking cross-country for months without proper meals had taken its toll, I knew I must look unhealthy.

She kept on going, ignoring my interruption.

"But I'm afraid we don't have any food here, you understand," I nodded, I did indeed, "but if you can wait a little while Esme went out to get some for you."

"You don't have to-" she waved my objection aside with a perfect porcelain hand, "Don't be silly, of course we do. You're our guest, and we will treat you properly. While we're waiting we should get you cleaned up, and out of those clothes."

I looked down at my grimy, ripped jeans, crusted with dried blood and mud, at the t-shirt that had once been white but was now an unpleasant mix of dirt-brown and blood red she had a point.

"I don't have any other clothes," I said, looking down at my bag. I had ditched my clothes bag a little before Seattle, all I had in there was a sweater and the clothes Jordan had ripped apart a week ago, useless now.

She laughed lightly and grabbed at my wrist- I flinched but she didn't seem to notice. I didn't like to be touched in general, I had become too jittery, any unexpected contact startled and put me on edge, and the feel of her peculiar icy skin didn't help matters. But she didn't acknowledge me reaction and pulled me to my feet before I could protest, swinging me towards the doorway and pulling me along behind her as she raced up the stairs.

"You can shower and I'll find you something to wear," she told me cheerfully, shooting up the staircase, still dragging me along for the ride, "but-"

I started to speak but we were already on the landing and charging toward a door on the left. She moved so quickly, it was disconcerting, her steps as fast as lightning and as graceful as a dancer's.

She swung the door open and pulled me inside, still not listening as I tried to get out a protest.

"Here's the bathroom, you can shower here and I'll pick something out for you,"

"I-"

She shoved me toward the bathtub and flew out before I could get a full sentence out, clicking the door shut behind her. I stared at the door, then looked at the shower. I was only too glad to be able to bathe properly, but I was a little rattled by Alice's behavior.

I peeled off my grimy jeans slowly, wincing as the slid over the still tender area of my calf, then stripped off shirt and under ware, standing naked on the cool, tiled floor. I fiddled with the faucet until the water steamed, hopping in with a yelp. The water was scalding hot, but it relaxed the twisted muscles of my back, easing the crick in my neck and removing all traces of dirt from my skin. I scrubbed every inch of my body with the sweet-smelling soap removing two weeks worth of grit and sweat. I don't need to say how good that felt.

It occurred to me as I was rubbing shampoo into my hair that it probably wasn't good to be in the shower with my fresh stitches unprotected. I jumped out and nearly slid on the slick tiles, but caught myself on the counter. I examined myself in the mirror, and winced. The wounds on my shoulder and leg were much less gory than they had been, and thankfully the stitches seemed intact, but they were still hideous- jagged outlines of black stitches sealing together raw, torn flesh, except…

I raised my fingers hesitantly to my shoulder, traced the contours of the grisly bite, the tiny bumps of thread. The flesh beneath was even, unbroken. The skin had completely sealed itself, leaving only the barest tracery of a pink scar. I let out a small yelp, and quickly covered my mouth before Alice came in thinking there was something wrong, I knew vampires had excellent hearing. Oh shit. How could this be happening?

You know how, came the sly little voice in my ear again…

-Oh god, not you again

-Oh yes, I'm afraid it's little old me come back to-

-To pester me?

-To help you face the facts

-Well, with all due respect, I don't need you to help me

-Well thankfully I don't need an invitation

-Please go away

-I don't think so

-Why do you hang around my head, I mean, what are you, my conscience or something?

-Close enough

-Well, I'm not listening to you anymore

-You can't ignore me- I'm you

-You are _not_ me!

-Tetchy tetchy

-Shut up

-Don't you want to know what's going on?

-I-

-Of course you already know- _we_ already know, I should say

-I-

-It's a shame that you thought you'd finally squashed it for good, and now here it is, more prominent than ever, right at the exact moment when you need to hide your past the most. Ironic like,

-Go away!

-Do you honestly think you'll be able to hide everything from them? You've already made them suspicious, and now your wounds are healing within a day? That's bound to tip them off-

-Shut up!

-Why do you try to shun what is yours by right? These gifts were not given to you to be squandered because you're too cowardly to use them properly,

-Gifts! I wouldn't call something that torched my entire apartment a gift!

-No?

-No!

-You just need to learn proper control

-I am _not _going to learn how to control them, I am not going to use them period!

-Don't be childish

-Childish! Are you fuckin' kidding me? I am being smart, I am trying to prevent something like that from happening ever again!

-You made one little mistake, is that enough to scare you off from all your potential?

-One little mistake? You call setting my house on fire and becoming the target of a psychotic werewolf a little mistake!

-You have a tendency to look on the negative side of things, Dylan, and to exaggerate, has anyone ever told you that?

-I-

"Dylan?" a quiet tap on the door and Alice's distinct soprano voice floated through the wood. I broke out of my trance and backed up quickly away from the mirror, grabbing a towel and wrapping it as quickly as I could around my body. But no matter how I adjusted it, I could not cover my miraculously healed injuries. I mentally braced myself against the onslaught of questions I knew were inevitable, and slowly opened the door.

Alice didn't look at my shoulder or my leg, which was a relief, and instead cupped my elbow lightly with her chilled fingers and steered me toward another door, saying "are you feeling better?"

"Um,"

"I know it must all be very disconcerting, but Carlisle told me you seem to know quite a lot about us, and you seem to be taking everything very calmly,"

"I've had practice."

She raised her eyebrows at this but didn't question, leading me into a large room, I glimpsed an elegant four-poster bed and a beautiful velvet couch, and Alice dragged me on toward a door set in the right wall-a huge walk-in closet. I gaped at the sheer amount of clothing in the room, this place could have fully stocked a trendy LA boutique on Rodeo Drive, how could one person own so many clothes?

"I'm afraid none of my things will fit you," she said apologetically, I looked her up and down, she was barely five feet, I had to agree with her.

"But you're about Esme's height, so I found you some things of hers,"

She pulled out a silky white blouse and a floaty chiffon skirt of palest blue, she also offered up a pair of baby blue stilettos, Prada if I had to hazard a guess. I stared at her in disbelief, and didn't reach for the designer clothing she was proffering.

"I don't think that's my kind of thing," I said eying the stilettos with apprehension, "No offense, they're really pretty and all, but I'm more of a grunge kinda girl, if you know what I mean,"

Alice cocked her head to the side and smiled a mischievous half smile, "I thought you might be, I just thought I'd give this a shot- you'd look so pretty in blue if you gave it a chance…"

"No thanks."

She rolled her eyes comically, the expression looked made for a movie shoot, and said, "fine then, there should be some black things over in the corner, Esme never wears them, and I think Rosalie has as old pair of leather boots for when she's fooling around on her motorcycles."

She pointed in the direction of the corner, and left the room to let me change. When she re-entered, barely a minute later, now carrying a pair of vintage biker boots, she caught my readjusting the socks I'd found. Her eyes flew to my leg, too late I remembered my injury, or my lack thereof, I froze, stared at her, unable to come up with some kind of alibi. "What happened to your leg?" she asked slowly.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter twenty

Dylan's POV:

I scrambled with the cuff of the pants I'd pulled on and yanked it down over my calf, straightening up quickly and feeling the words tumble out of my mouth reflexively, "nothing."

She frowned delicately, her eyes not leaving the spot on my leg.

"What happened to the bite wound?" she asked carefully, her voice all silver and satin, the sort of voice that could charm a rabid bear, I shut my eyes tightly for a moment, and repeated with more force, "Nothing. Nothing happened to it."

"It's not there anymore," she said bluntly, taking a step forward and gesturing at my leg, "How did it heal so quickly?"

"It didn't, it's fine, it's just-"

Quick as a cat she caught my hand fumbling at my jeans cuff again, and gently but firmly pulled up the denim to reveal my calf, and the faintly upraised pink crescent scar where yesterday there had been a gory bite. Her cold fingertips probed tentatively, examining the stitches still in place and the newly smooth skin.

I didn't move, how could I? She already knew, it was there, plain as day, what was the point of pulling away from her?

After a moment she straightened fluidly and handed me the shoes like a peace offering. I snatched them quickly and yanked them on over my socks, pulling the jeans down over the tops. I couldn't think of anything that would even begin to coherently explain the phenomenon that she had just discovered. She spoke after a second, her voice gentle, "You're wound is totally healed." I gulped and tried not to blink, feeling panic slowly creeping up my spine like a spider.

"What about your shoulder?" I followed her gaze to my arm, to the fresh bright scar that zigzagged around my shoulder blade and collarbone, the shadow of what had last night been a grisly bite wound. I was in just a bra, and the shape of the scar was clearly visible, but that was the only evidence that I had been mauled at all. I grabbed a shirt off the shelf and pulled it over my head quickly, not looking her in the face.

She caught my hand again and gave it a gentle squeeze. My first instinct was to jerk away, but the feel of her smooth cold fingers was oddly comforting.

"It's ok," she said softly, "there's nothing to be alarmed about."

"Are you kidding?" I demanded, staring at her in disbelief. "I'm a freak, this isn't supposed to happen, it's unnatural, it's horrible!"

"I don't think the ability to heal quickly is so horrible,"

"It's twisted, it seems like it's good, like it couldn't possibly do any harm, but that's not true- it's dangerous!" I blurted out in a rush, biting my lip suddenly to cut off my tirade before I proved myself to be the complete nutcase I was. Her unearthly topaz eyes were wide, but not alarmed, just curious and concerned, she hadn't let go of my hand even as I practically yelled. She reached up and brushed my wet hair out of my face, smiled kindly.

"How can you be sure that it isn't good?" she asked quietly, peering into my eyes with that unblinking golden gaze, completely serious.

"I know." I said forcefully.

"How?"

I closed my eyes and bit my lip, "You can tell me," she whispered comfortingly, voice like music, like a lullaby, squeezing my hand again.

"You'll think I'm insane- you won't want me in this house anymore- you'll know how dangerous I am and I'll be on my own again," my voice cracked on the last word, I stared at the floor.

"Nothing you could say or do would make us change our minds about helping you, Dylan."

She told me confidently, not missing a beat in her assurance. I found that highly unlikely. But how on earth could I expect to get away with having massive bite wounds that healed within 24 hours? There was no foreseeable way for me to get out of this situation without telling them the truth, or at least part of it.

And what would it hurt?

These people had amazing gifts- their abstinence from human blood, Edward's mind reading- they never acted the way I expected. Maybe, just maybe they could really help me. Maybe they would understand, they would know what was going on with me and be able to tell me that no, I was not some demon or freak, there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything that was happening to me.

I wanted that more than anything, wanted someone to be able to explain things, be able to help me, make sure I didn't have to deal with all this on my own, tell me everything would be alright.

"I don't think I can explain it properly." I said, shaking my head, "it's too complicated."

"Just try, and if you'll agree to open up your thoughts to Edward then he will be able to understand much better than I will, it will be easier for us to help you if we know as much as you do."

I just stared at her. She has flipped her lid.

"You want me to let him poke around in my head while I talk?"

"Yes, for your own good."

I shook my head in disbelief- "I can't, I can't have him digging around in my thoughts! It's preposterous, it's an invasion of privacy, I don't want him knowing everything I'm thinking!"

"I'm quite sure that with your unique abilities Edward will not be able to see or hear anything you do not want him to. But if you allow him to read your thoughts while you explain, allowing him access to the memories that are linked to this, it may help us understand what these bizarre gifts are."

Gifts? She was out of her mind- "Isn't there another way?"

"You said it yourself, Dylan. You don't think you can explain properly, and you want our help."

"But-"

"I know it seems absurd, Dylan, and I know you're afraid to let people in, but this will help, I promise."

Let people in- that was what he'd said. "You need to let people in, Dylan."

But if I let people in they could hurt me, they had done before, I couldn't afford to tell them everything, couldn't afford to let Edward see my deepest thoughts and fears, it would leave me defenseless-

-You're defenseless without their help

-I can't tell them everything, I can't let him see all my thoughts, what about Jordan?

-What about him? Maybe if they can help you with your powers then they can help Jordan as well,

-You're just saying that, you don't care whether or not we help Jordan.

-No, I don't, but you do…

I exhaled deeply, and looked down at Alice again, steeling myself for a suicide leap, dimly aware that I was about to divulge all of my secrets, all of my horrid past- that I was pretty much throwing myself off the plane without a parachute. But I could no longer bring myself to cling to my independence and secrecy- I needed help, I couldn't do this on my own, not anymore. This was my last shot.

"Alright, let's do it…"

Sorry guys I know this one is rather short, but the next one will be up soon, and more information will be revealed!

_If you want more REVIEW!_


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter twenty-one

Bella's POV:

Dylan was sitting stiffly on the bed as we entered, every line of her body strained as if she were about to explode. I was hesitant to approach her when she radiated such intensity, I didn't want to startle her, or set her off,

"Hello, Dylan," I said carefully, stepping away from Edward and Alice, a little closer to the bed.

She turned big dark eyes on me and said in a slightly hoarse voice, "Oh, hi Bella."

"Edward and Alice told me what was going on, and I thought you might like some moral support," I said, smiling slightly, trying to show that my intentions were good.

"I figured this is probably a lot to take, and I wanted to be here in case you needed anything."

She visibly relaxed as I stated the real reason I was here, unclenching her fists and even smiling- actually smiled, it was small and hesitant, but it was real.

"Thanks, I appreciate that."

When she smiled she looked much less heavy and weary. The strain was still there, lurking behind her eyes, but it was amazing how different she looked when her face wasn't twisted in pain or fear. When she smiled it was easy to see how young she was, that she really was sixteen. I hadn't thought she could look so youthful, or so pretty. But she was pretty, I realized as I focused on her appearance- even beautiful.

Her hair was as dark as Alice's, and almost as short, framing her slim face in gentle waves. Her skin was a few shades lighter than the Quileute brown, olive-toned and radiant now that it was clear of blood and dirt. She was an inch or two taller than I was, with narrow hips and long legs, her high cheekbones accented almond-shaped hazel eyes, more green than brown. I noted the thin gash that she had sported yesterday had vanished from her cheek, but Alice had warned me about that.

I also took into account her clothes, which were quite different from anything I had ever seen any of the Cullens wear; I wondered where she had gotten them. Dark blue jeans with deliberate tears in the knees, vintage motorcycle boots of black leather, and a corset-like black blouse trimmed in black lace, which somehow managed to look both gothic and fashionable.

As my eyes swept over her bare shoulders, catching on the slightly upraised scar, and the thin line of thread, I glimpsed a peculiarly shaped birthmark on her back, just below her neck, lighter than the rest of her complexion- almost white- shaped like a crescent moon. My gaze lingered on it for a moment, but then slid down to her hands, resting in her lap. I counted four thick silver bands on her fingers.

With her tan skin and dramatic dark clothing, Dylan certainly didn't fit into the miniature world of Forks. But then again, I got the feeling she didn't fit anywhere, she couldn't, not with the werewolf that hunted her where ever she went and who also, according to Edward, had at one point been in a romantic relationship with her. My head was still spinning from that one.

Alice came and sat on Dylan's other side, grabbing one of the hands resting on her knees and entwining it with her own without hesitation. Dylan looked at her as if she might protest for a moment, but closed her mouth.

Edward approached the three of us calmly, deliberately slowing to a more human pace so as to keep from alarming Dylan any more than she already was. He pulled a chair up in front of her and sat gracefully, catching her eyes with his beautiful golden gaze. I felt a small tremor of panic run through the body sitting beside me, she was breathing slowly, trying to calm herself. I thought she might bolt now at the last minute, but she didn't, she sat stock-still and did not break eye contact with the vampire sitting before her.

Edward's POV:

It was certainly a surprise to see Dylan looking so different. Gone was the bloody, mud-caked urchin, now she looked startlingly normal. Dressed in a lacy black top I'd never seen any of my family wear before and a pair of Rosalie's old leather biker boots, she looked more suited to hitting a rock concert than confessing her bizarre abilities to a mind-reading vampire.

But despite her new attire and her clean hair and skin, she still wore those thick silver rings, and the dipped collar of the blouse she wore did not wholly hide the thin tracery of stitches running along her shoulder. I stared at her shoulder- the wound was totally healed. My eyes moved to her face, the gash on her cheek had vanished, the cuts she had acquired last night on her forehead and neck were no where to be seen, the skin totally unblemished.

I'd known there was something strange about her, something more than human. And here was the proof. Except she _was_ human, that was obvious, I could see the flush of her skin and the faint flutter of her pulse, could hear her heart beat and the blood flowing in her veins and the breath moving in and out of her lungs. Definitely human, but definitely not normal.

I listened for her distinct voice again and caught the misgivings and fears squirming in her thoughts like insects, she was dreading the transaction of allowing me full access to her mind. She met my eyes as I sat down and there was a challenge in them- daring me to think her too weak to go through with it, daring me to contradict her and tell her she had nothing to worry about.

I respected her defiant attitude. She wasn't deluding herself in any way, she knew where she stood, and where I stood, she didn't want to sugar coat, to dance around the point. It was refreshing to encounter a human who didn't try to be ambiguous or evasive, Dylan was a rare straightforward individual. I would do her the honor of acting likewise.

"Are you ready to begin?"

She nodded, I continued calmly,

"I am not entirely certain why you are able to protect certain sections of your mind from me, but I believe you can manipulate it if you choose. As you explain the way your wounds healed and how you came to be here, I'd like you to allow your mind complete freedom. Every thought and memory connected to your explanation, let it flow freely through your head, consciously unlock whatever barriers you have, don't let your thoughts close themselves off, however minute or uncomfortable they are, don't let them slip away from you, or from me. Keep them at the forefront of your mind at all times. Do you think you can do that?"

She nodded and pursed her lips in readiness. I blinked and focused on her, tuning out the sounds of Alice's thoughts and narrowing my range of conception solely to the human seated before me. "When ever you're ready," I said softly. She took a deep breath and began.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter twenty-two

Dylan's POV:

(Two years ago…)

I was able to make it past my mother without her noticing the bloody cloth wrapped around my wrist- but I still had to lie about where I'd been. I came up with some story about almost getting mugged to explain why I'd missed the bus and why I looked as if I'd been crying.

She'd been ready to lay into me about not calling and overstepping my curfew and worrying her, but as soon as she heard about my "almost mugging" and how I'd managed to outrun the culprits and gotten lost and had to find my way home from a part of the city I'd never been to before, she immediately dropped the issue of my lateness like a hot potato and starting fussing over whether or not I was alright. I assured her and my sister that I was perfectly fine, I wasn't hurt, they hadn't gotten anything, I was just really tired and wanted to go to bed. They understood of course, and let me slip into my bedroom without another word. That was easier than I would have thought, thank god I'd been able to cover my injured wrist with Jordan's jacket, and thank god for that matter that they hadn't wondered where I'd gotten the jacket from.

I locked my bedroom door and went to the connecting bathroom, unwrapping the strips of cloth from around my wrist and cleaning the bite as best I could. There had been a peculiar burning sensation stinging through my arm since I'd first been bitten, like sparks flaring up in my veins, but it was starting to wear off. I bandaged it with thick white gauze and hid the bloody rags at the bottom of the trash can, I would empty it first thing tomorrow morning, and be sure to wear long sleeves.

After I finished I hurried out of the bathroom and across to my window, flinging it open and leaning out over the fire escape, scanning the ground below.

"Jordan?" I called as loudly as I dared. It was ridiculous to expect him to still be there, I felt stupid just calling out my window at nothing, but I couldn't stop myself from hoping.

And then suddenly there he was, standing three floors below underneath the metal ladder of the fire escape, staring up at me. My heart leapt into my throat and I smiled down at him. I watched silently as he jumped up and seized the ladder, yanking himself up in one lithe movement and climbing the rusty black stairs until he reached the fire escape platform positioned beneath my window.

I stepped back silently and watched as he slid into the room like a cat, standing backlit by the glow of the street lights outside. My bedroom was still dark but the light of outside was enough for me to see the details of his bare torso- broad shoulders and well-defined chest, I longed to run my fingers over the muscles of his stomach. I stared for a moment and then blushed and shrugged off his jacket.

"Here," I said, offering it to him. He smiled slightly and took it from me, but did not put it on. He seemed to enjoy my inability to draw my gaze away from his bare chest.

"I would have thought you knew better than to invite strange men up into your bedroom," he said coyly. I smiled in return and stepped closer, draping my arms over his shoulders, pulling his head closer to mine and whispering an inch or so away from his lips, "I think I can make an exception just this once."

He smiled and pressed his mouth against mine, one hand slipping around my waist, the other pressing into the small of my back, holding me against his chest. My lips parted and I felt his tongue slip over my lower lip, felt him smile against my mouth. He deepened the kiss, pressing his lips almost roughly against mine and running his hand up my back. I shivered with pleasure and he pulled away momentarily, gazing at me with a hint of concern, "are you alright?" he asked.

I smiled and nodded, lifting my hand to touch his thick dark hair, my breathing a little uneven.

"Better than alright," I said softly.

He grinned and leaned his head lower, his warm lips caressing my throat, I stood on my tip toes and pressed myself against him, shifting my arms so that they were wrapped around his waist, pressing our hips together. He moaned a little and inhaled deeply as he kissed the side of my neck, "do you have any idea how delicious you smell?" he murmured against my neck, I felt my breath catch as his tickled my skin.

"Not really," I laughed, tracing my fingers over the hard muscles of his abdomen.

"It's amazing- you are amazing," he drew his head up from my neck and looked into my eyes- my breath snagged again, they were so green, it was hypnotic.

"Too amazing for me," he said quietly, lifting his hands to cup my cheeks. I smiled a little and cocked my head playfully, "Well I think you're too amazing for me as well-I'd say that makes us even, don't you think?"

He frowned at this and ran the pad of his thumb over my cheekbone, caressing the almost invisible remnants of tears left on my skin, not drawing his eyes away from mine.

"You shouldn't say that," he told me seriously, his fingers moving almost unconsciously to my hairline, stroking the loose locks around my face.

"Why?"

"You shouldn't think I'm… a good person…. I'm _not_ a good person- I don't deserve to be with someone like you."

I frowned in confusion and pulled away from him a little, the better to examine his expression.

"What do you mean? Of course you're a good person."

"No, I'm not, Dylan. I'm not a good person at all- I could hurt you."

"Anyone could hurt me, Jordan. And you stopped two people from really hurting me tonight, I'd say that makes you a good person."

"It doesn't- I acted out of selfishness, I wanted to keep you for myself, I felt attached to you. I don't normally help people like I did tonight, there was just something about you…"

I crossed my arms across my chest and scrutinized him.

"You wanted to keep me for yourself? What does that mean, you didn't want them eating me before you got a taste?"

He looked horrified, "No! No, that's not it at all! I would never-"

"Then what is it? You said you could hurt me, and you said you acted selfishly, that you wouldn't normally have helped someone the way you helped me. What exactly did you want with me?"

He opened his mouth but no words came out for a second, he tried again, "I had no intention of hurting you, Dylan. None. You must believe that."

"Then what did you intend?"

"Nothing! It was strange for me to feel any kind of compassion for a human; I wouldn't normally interfere with the blood-drinkers and their victims. In all fairness you were their catch, I had no right to intervene. But you looked so helpless, and you were so beautiful…"

I raised my eyebrows; "You thought I was beautiful, so you decided to spare me from being sucked dry? So what, if I'd been ugly you wouldn't have bothered?"

His eyebrows were drawn together in confusion and agitation, he thought for a moment before answering softly, "I don't know. Probably not."

I stared at him.

"You don't mean that." I said just as softly, dropping my eyes from his face.

"I do. I told you, I acted selfishly. You were attractive and young and I felt guilty for letting something so delicate and beautiful be killed. And then you ran off, and I followed you, because I didn't want them laying a hand on what I now considered to be mine. You were my responsibility, my possession, I didn't want anyone else touching you, let alone trying to hurt you. I wouldn't have done it if you didn't look the way you do."

The honesty was plain and heavy in his voice, he wasn't sugar coating, he wanted to make me hate him, fear him.

I looked back up at him defiantly. "I don't believe that." I said.

He glared. "You should- it's the truth. Don't delude yourself into thinking that just because I helped you I'm a good person. I'm dangerous, I am a very big threat to you."

"And how is that?" I demanded.

"Because!" He was definitely angry now. "Because in two days I will not be thinking about how you look or why I helped you, if I'm anywhere near you I'll want to do the exact same thing they wanted to do to you! Don't think you're safe with me! I'm as dangerous as they were, just not right at this moment. If I met you in that alley two nights from now, don't think for a second I wouldn't try to tear you limb from limb! You shouldn't have invited me up here, you shouldn't want to spend time with me, you have no idea what kind of danger you're putting yourself in!" He wasn't shouting but he was pretty close, I was glad the door and walls were thick and that it was difficult to hear noises from other rooms in my apartment because of the city noise. He definitely would have woken my family up if it had been totally quiet.

His words had hit me like a blow to the stomach; I was shocked by the self-loathing and aggressive conviction with which he pronounced them. He wanted them to cut the way they had, wanted to snap me out of my trust. I backed away a little from him and sank onto my bed, raising my hand to rub at my eyes for a second.

"_What are you_?" I wondered aloud, not entirely sure he would answer or if he would blow up again or evade my question like in the restaurant. I wasn't sure which of these would be worse.

There was silence for a moment, I didn't even hear him breathing. After a minute I looked up to see if he was still there, and he was. Still positioned by my window, he was easily the most impressive thing in my tiny room, standing like a perfect Roman statue, backlit by the dim glow of the streetlights, motionless, his beautiful face twisted in pain and indecision.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" he asked, his eyes pleading. I bit my lip for a second, then nodded.

"I want you to be honest with me, and I want you to trust me, and I want to know the truth about you." I stated truthfully.

He breathed in deeply, and took a step toward the bed, eying me questioningly as he raised his leg to step closer. I didn't say anything and watched silently as he closed the distance and sat on the bed beside me, I felt the mattress sink under his weight.

"Those people who tried to kill you tonight- they were not normal people. That is, they were not human. They were vampires. That's why they followed you, that's why the man bit your wrist, at the exact spot where one of your major blood vessels was located. They wanted to feed on you, on your blood. They might not have come after you a second time if I hadn't gotten involved. If you'd escaped on your own and fled, they might not have bothered to pursue you, but simply picked off another passer by. But they were angered by my interference, and they went after you specifically when you left the restaurant. They were angered by my involvement because their kind and mine are sworn enemies. Under normal circumstances we wouldn't even interact if it could be helped, and deliberately stealing their prey, well, that pissed them off."

He paused for a second, looking at me to gauge my reaction. I was keeping my face carefully blank, staring at the wall across from the bed, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't speak I said cautiously,

"That still doesn't explain what you are. Are you a vampire?"

I was amazed at how calmly I could ask that, ask the man who'd just had his lips on my neck if he were a vicious nocturnal blood-sucker. But I was calm, I wasn't afraid of him- my instincts told me I should be, but I couldn't summon the proper fear. I waited for him to answer.

He took a deep breath and turned his gaze away from me, staring at the same spot on the wall that I was. His voice was monotone as he said, "No, no I'm not a vampire."

Pause.

"Then what are you?"

Pause. I swear he could hear my heart beat going double time despite my calm exterior. I stared at the wall, tried to regulate my breathing, tried to keep from fidgeting or turning to look at him. Then he said in a voice so low I could barely hear him…

"I'm a werewolf."

How's that for a chapter? Sorry to keep jumping from past to present but I need to explain everything somehow. I updated as quickly as I could so please show me you care and REVIEW!


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter twenty-three

Dylan's POV:

(Two years ago…)

I sat totally still for a moment, the air felt heavy, almost like liquid as I sucked it silently into my lungs, staring at the wall, feeling as if it were rushing to meet me, closing in. He was as still as I was, but I could feel him looking at me, trying desperately to discern some expression in my face, trying to register my reaction. When I didn't speak for almost a minute he whispered, "Dylan?"

It was a question, and a plea. The word begged me to acknowledge him, begged me to respond kindly, begged me to understand. I opened my mouth, but my throat felt constricted, I closed it again and licked my lips, then turned to face him. His face was slightly illuminated by the pale light of the street outside, his perfect smooth hair, his hollow cheeks and full, soft lips- so lovely, so human. How could this boy be… what he'd said he was?

Vampires and werewolves… creature of nightmare, of make believe, how was it that I'd managed to encounter both in the past four hours? And what did this mean… how could I look at him the same way, kiss him the same way, when I now knew that some of those horrible snarls I'd heard echoing in the subway tunnel were his?

He reached out hesitantly and his hand hovered for a moment, waiting to see if I'd recoil. When I didn't he took my hand gently and said softly, "Dylan, I know how horrified you must be, I know it seems unbelievable and terrifying…. But, but…" he shook his head as if to clear his vision and continued, speaking still lower, "In two days I'll become a true monster, and will remain that way for the three nights of the full moon. But after that, after the moon wanes; I'll be as you see me now, I'll be human. I don't say that to make you complacent- I have to make you understand how dangerous I am, I can't try to hide any of it, because I don't want you to be hurt. I'm not a wolf during the rest of the month, but the longer I'm attached to you, the easier it will be for me to hurt you when I do transform. Do you understand?"

What was he trying to say? That he wanted to sever ties with me, for my own good? That I had to keep away from him?

Well, wasn't that the best thing?

As I thought this I felt a pang of despair in my chest, my head was a whirlwind. I couldn't think of anything to say- I nodded mutely. He lifted his other hand and, light as gossamer, brushed his fingertips along my cheek, seeming not to realize what he was doing. His hand stopped at the side of my face and cupped it softly, his brows crinkling in pain. My brain screamed that I should jerk away, the new knowledge of his otherness, his inhumanity, his danger were setting off shrill warning bells like grenades throughout my body, but despite this I could not pull away, I was too distracted by the way my skin tingled when he touched me.

"Dylan, I know I should stay away from you- I know I must frighten you, and I know what danger I'm putting you in. I know it would be the best thing for you to never see me again. I want you to be safe- more than anything. I want you to be happy, and I couldn't stand to see you hurt, especially not by me. I know that I _should_ stay away from you. But another part of me is rebelling against that logic. That part doesn't want to let you go… that part wants to hang on to you no matter what." He looked pained as he said this, his mouth twisted in self-doubt, but he forced himself to continue.

" I'm a threat to you, you don't know how easily I could hurt you, and it would be pure instinct. I've never killed a human before during the full moon, if I did I would be cursed forever, I would be at the mercy of my wolf half anytime, anywhere. But every time I transform it takes every ounce of my control to keep myself from hunting human beings, you can't imagine what a struggle it is to ignore that hunger…I don't want to take that risk by being near you during the full moon, and it would be safer if I stayed away from you permanently." Those words stung, and I knew they shouldn't. I should be afraid for my life, but all I was afraid of was him being subjected to that pain, of him pulling away from me. Instinct was battling ferociously with emotion in my brain, and it was making me lightheaded. He continued,

"My mind is telling me all that. But my heart wants to stay with you. It's selfish and unethical, I know, but I can't lie and say I don't want to be with you. But I _will_ stay away, I will," He insisted, sounding as if he were trying to convince both himself and me. He swallowed,

"But I need to know that you want that… just say the word and I'll leave now, and I'll never come back. I need you to help me, I can't leave if there's even a chance you might want me… I'm too weak. I'm caught between what I _want_ to do, and what I _should _do. Please make this easier- tell me you hate me, tell me you can't stand to look at me, tell me you're terrified! Tell me you never want to see me again, and I'll be able to do the right thing." His voice cracked on these last words, and I felt his fingers tremble against my skin, but his face was resolute, pleading.

I sucked in air as if I'd just been held underwater, almost gasping into the silence, my voice had fled and I couldn't find words to answer him. I stared into his eyes, those brilliantly green clear keen eyes, and I felt fear, but not the kind I knew I should be feeling. Not fear for my own safety, not fear that he would hurt me- fear that he would leave, fear that I would lose him when I had only had him for such a short time.

I couldn't bare the thought of never seeing him again. I had never felt this intensely about someone I had only just met, but I was unquestionably certain I had to stay with him. It was dangerous, it was reckless and illogical and foolhardy, but I had to do it. I could not go back to life without him, it seemed that bleak existence was years away, rather than only a few hours, but it made no difference.

-Oh god you're going to regret this

-Maybe, but I'll take my chances…

"No," I whispered. His eyes widened, I could see myself reflected in the pupils, my untidy dark hair and my lips swollen from his kisses.

"What?" he asked, the word slightly breathless. I leaned in closer to him so that our noses were almost touching, his hand fell away from my cheek.

"I won't tell you to leave me alone, I won't say I hate you. I want you to stay,"

I felt his hand give a spasm of shock against mine, and his grip tightened unconsciously on my fingers.

"You don't know what you're saying." He whispered, reluctant and disbelieving and horrified, his lips barely moved as he uttered this, he looked appalled.

"I do. I don't care if you're a werewolf, it doesn't change the way I feel about you. You say you could hurt me, you say you're dangerous, but you used that power to save me tonight- not kill me, save me. I trust you, and I don't want you to leave me."

He shook his head; "I wasn't a full wolf tonight! It's only because it was so close to the full moon I could draw on some of my powers, but not all of them, I wasn't the full monster I will be! You don't understand, I had control tonight, I kept my human mind, in two days-"

"You'll go and hunt and keep a safe distance between you and any people, including me." I interrupted firmly, "And when the full moon is over and you transform back into a human, then we can be together. All we have to do is stay apart three days of the month, that isn't hard."

"You don't understand-"

I lifted my finger and pressed it to his mouth to silence him, the feel of his incredibly soft lips against my skin sent a crackle of electric energy through my whole arm, but I spoke calmly.

"Jordan, I know what I'm doing- I understand, believe me. But this is what I choose, this and only this. I won't change my mind, this is it, take me or leave me."

The expression in his eyes was unfathomable for a moment; I could feel his mouth trembling almost imperceptibly against my fingertip. And then there was a flash of light in his eyes, an expression of hope and amazement and longing and happiness and… something that might have been love.

He kissed the fingertip still held against his lips, then reached up and turned my hand over, kissing the palm, the wrist. His hands slid over my torso, he leaned his weight into mine and I leaned with him, he pressed me against the mattress and his face hovered over mine for a second.

"Thank you." He whispered, his hands stroking the loose hair around my face. I smiled up at him dazedly, lifting my hands and clasping them around his neck, pulling him closer so that his forehead rested against mine. "Stay with me," I murmured, my fingers winding their way into his soft hair. He kissed my cheek and replied, "As long as you want me."

_**Yea, some good old fashion fluff right here! Review you!**_


	24. Author's note

Author's Note

Hey everyone- first off, hello! Nice to see you all again! Yes, I am still alive, contrary to what my lack of activity might have led you to believe. I am so so

sorry I have been gone forever. My idiotic computer suddenly decided it hated me and would not let me access my account for months, I couldn't update or edit or anything! There for I was unable to keep going with By The Light Of The Moon and doubtlessly pissed off and/or disappointed some of you after I promised to update and well, didn't. But that is over and done with now! I have defeated the evil computer gremlins and have emerged victorious with a new chapter in hand! So if you readers are willing to forgive my inattentiveness and abandonment and are still invested in Jordan and Dylan, tune in for future updates!

Love,

Sarah, your friendly fanfiction author


	25. Chapter 24

Chapter twenty-four

Dylan's POV:

(Two years ago…)

I rolled over in my small bed and felt something vaguely warm and heavy shift with me. I looked up from the pillow and saw an arm laid across my lower back- a pale, well-muscled arm, with a large calloused hand loosely cupped around my waist. I couldn't keep the smile from spreading across my face as I realized that it hadn't been some bizarre dream…. I hadn't imagined the gorgeous werewolf who'd saved me last night. He was still here with me, in the unquestionable morning light, he was still here, sprawled out asleep with one arm looped around me.

He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, his face relaxed and his dark hair falling into his eyes. I watched his bare chest rise and fall slowly with his breathing, his lips parted slightly and he sighed… I figured he was dreaming.

I was parched; I decided to get a glass of water from the kitchen. Not wanting to wake him, I tried to ease out from under his arm without disturbing him. As I shifted slowly and quietly toward the edge of the bed Jordan moaned, unconsciously he pulled me back toward him, drawing me close so that my body was fitted into the curve of his, still sleeping, his face pressed into my hair, his arm encircling my waist tightened its hold reflexively.

I sighed in resignation and lay still in his embrace, listening to the sounds of traffic beyond my window and enjoying the feel of his breath on the back of my neck. I was just considering fluffing my pillow and going back to sleep when I heard a minute click, then the gentle scrape of wood on wood.

"Fuck!"

I tossed Jordan's arm aside and kicking the blanket aside, scrambled toward the edge of the bed, not hearing his sleepy protest, reaching for the nightstand to pull myself up I overbalanced and tumbled off the mattress, crashing to the floor just as the door opened fully and I heard my sister's gasp, "What the-!"

I leapt up and flew at her, grabbing her arm and swinging her out of the room, slamming the door behind us.

"What the hell are you doing?! Who is that guy?"

"Shh!" I hissed hurriedly, letting go of her wrist. "Keep it down- where's Mum?"

"She went for a job interview- who is that guy?!"

"He's-"

"Are you sleeping with him?!"

"No!"

"What is he doing in your room?"

"He spent the night-"

"You _are _sleeping with him!"

"I am not! Chill, Emily."

"Chill? You were out all night and you snuck this guy into your room… you want me to chill?"

"Emily- it isn't like that, I mean, we've kissed, but I don't know if we're together or anything- it's complicated."

Of all the people I know, or have ever known, no one has ever been able to read me like my sister… at least, not until Jordan.

She could see that I was being evasive, she could see I wasn't telling the whole truth, and she didn't buy into it for a minute. She crossed her arms across her chest and scrutinized me. I had to look down, I felt like a kid preparing to be laid into by the principal.

"What's his name?" I looked up hesitantly, she wasn't shouting anymore, but her eyes were steely, a police officer demanding a confession.

"Jordan." I said without thinking.

"How long have you known him?"

I stalled, "I don't know Em'-"

"How long?"

I sighed and mumbled, "about five hours."

"Are you kidding me?" I let my eyes drop to the floor again, the carpet fibers were so very appealing compared to meeting her gaze.

"No."

"And you have him spending the night in your room?"

"We were just kissing, Em'- I swear, I didn't have sex with him."

I put my hand up as though I were swearing in court, she didn't look totally convinced.

"Where did you meet this guy?"

I raised my hands to my face and rubbed my eyes tiredly, it was too early for this.

"Last night, when I was about to… get mugged, he came out of nowhere, and he saved me. He took care of me- he calmed me down and took me out to dinner, he brought me home, and then we just sort of… fell for each other, I guess."

She raised her eyebrow at me, "Funny, I don't remember you mentioning any of this last night."

"Oh come on, Mum would have a coronary if she found out I was making out with some stranger. I just met him, and it all just happened, I didn't have time to think-"

"Obviously."

I frowned at that.

"Come on, Emily, don't be like that. I really like this guy… he's not like anyone else I've ever met. He's… amazing."

"You sound like a love-sick lunatic."

I glared at her indignantly, "Thanks for being so understanding."

"You expect me to take you seriously?"- I guess not-"For god's sake you just met him! Why the hell are you sneaking him up into your room in the middle of the night?"

I shrugged, I didn't really know.

"I like being with him… I feel totally safe and whole and perfect…. It just feels right. I didn't know if I'd ever see him again, I just didn't want it to end."

She stared at me for a long moment. Her hazel eyes- almost identical to mine, were inscrutable.

"Are you telling me the truth?"

"Yes." Most of it.

"Why didn't you tell me before, last night on the phone, why did you try to hide this from me?"

Oh yea Em', I'm having dinner with this guy who, it turns out, is a werewolf trying to protect me from a pair of bloodthirsty vampires who nearly murdered me in an alley! Anything else you want to know before they cart me off to the psych. ward?

I answered, "I told you- I wasn't thinking. I would have told you."

"When? After he'd climbed back down the fire escape?"

"I would have told you." I repeated- I was pretty sure it was true, I would have edited of course, but I would never have lied about Jordan being in my life- not to her.

She sighed and sat down on the couch a few feet away.

"You're not going to tell Mum, are you?" I asked nervously.

"Of course not." She said, as if the very idea was ludicrous.

"Thank you." It didn't seem like enough, she still seemed miffed about something.

"Emily, I really was going to tell you, but you _did_ catch me a little off guard… I wasn't trying to hide him from you, I just panicked when you came in, and I didn't want to make a big scene."

"I know."

"Are you angry?"

"No, I just, I don't know, you've never done something like this before." I raised my eyebrows, "I mean you've snuck guys in, sure," she hurried to correct herself.

"But never someone you just met. How do you know you can trust him, how do you feel so strongly about him when you haven't even known him a day?"

I didn't think I could explain the reason behind my attachment. How could I convey how implicitly I trusted him? How he'd saved my life- twice. How his eyes glowed in that incredible way when he was trying to understand what I was thinking…

"I feel like I've known him forever. It's just this…" I didn't know how to describe it; I waved my hand in the air, trying to find the right words. "This instant, amazing connection."

"Love at first sight?"

I blushed and looked down.

"I just met him." I said in a subdued tone. Love was so big, so distant; I couldn't put the label to myself. But these feelings were strong, and not like anything else I'd had in the past…

"That doesn't seem to be an issue in any other matter."

"I am not sleeping with him!" I cried in exasperation, a bit louder than I'd intended. She wasn't going to be sidetracked.

"Do you think you're in love with this guy?"

I chose my answer carefully, unable to distinguish specific labels from the whirlpool of feelings writhing around in the pit of my stomach.

"I don't know. Maybe."

The surprise on her face was restrained- she kept her composure.

"I know I shouldn't be rushing into anything," I added hurriedly, "but I can just feel it. It's definitely something, I don't know if it's love, but, I mean, I have all these feelings… I really don't know how to explain it." I raised my shoulders and dropped them in consternation.

She pursed her lips, sizing up all I'd said.

"You really like him?"

I sighed- like didn't seem like an adequate word, "Yes."

"And you trust him?"

I nodded. She sighed, dropped her poker face. "Ok then, I believe you, if you think he's all that, I guess you're not completely insane." She turned away from me and strode toward the door, "I'm going to get coffee- do you want any?"

"Sure. Thanks, Em'"

"No problem. Just don't let me catch you sneaking him into the apartment again. If he comes in, he comes through the front door and all that entails, got it?"

I rolled my eyes, sometimes she acted more like the mother than my mother did. "If you say so."

After she'd left I turned to the closed bedroom door, stared down at the doorknob for a moment, "I could have sworn I locked this," I muttered. I didn't remember giving Emily the key, but I suspected she'd gotten it on her own.

I opened the door slowly and stepped back into my room. The bed was empty. I looked over to the open window and felt my heart sinking. Had the scene scared him off? Had he decided to bolt before things got too complicated? Was he going to come back? I bit my lip and tried to repress the feeling of abandonment, took a few more steps into my room and stood before the bed, looking down at it silently.

I sensed a tall form come up close behind me, I could feel his body heat radiating an inch away. Strong hands slipped around my hips from behind.

"I thought you'd left." I said, not turning around. He pulled me closer, interlacing our fingers. "I wouldn't leave without telling you," he said softly, "I was just hiding in your closet, in case your sister came back in."

I laughed a little, "She was pretty surprised, but I took care of it."

"I heard." He replied quietly, his breath tickling the back of my neck. He'd been listening? I wasn't so sure that was a good thing.

"You did?" I asked lightly, trying not to be distracted by his body pressed up to mine.

"Mhm," he murmured, removing one hand from mine and tracing his fingers up and down my bare arm. "It was nice to hear you defend me." His fingers paused for a moment,

"And to hear that you care so strongly for me." His fingers reassumed their ascent over my shoulder and I caught my breath as he caressed the skin between my throat and collarbone.

"You know how I feel about you." I said, still not turning to look at him.

"We have expressed our… mutual attraction, it's true, but it was different to hear it like that."

I tried to back-peddle, "Well, I mean, I didn't mean any of that stuff, what I said to her- that is, I don't- I'm not-"

"You don't love me?" His voice was neither hurt nor accusatory; merely curious.

Again, I back-peddled, but not quite as recklessly. "It's not that I don't care about you, I mean, I _do_ like you, that part wasn't a lie… I like you a lot. I just kind of panicked when she brought that up."

"So you _do_ love me?" He clarified slowly.

Shit- why couldn't I form a coherent sentence? And why was he acting so calm? Most guys would flee for the hills at the vaguest mention of the horrible "L" word, but he was being so nonchalant. It threw me off.

My answer was slow and disjointed…. "Not… exactly."

"It's a yes or no question, Dylan." Who made that rule? But I guess it was essentially a yes or no question- Yes, I love you, I want to stay with you, or No, I don't, goodbye. But I'd never really bought into the whole love shtick, "let's get married and grow old together" and mom and dad and baby makes three and all that stuff. It hadn't worked out for my parents, and I'd just assumed it didn't work for anyone else either, including me. But wasn't this particular question also one of possibility? He wasn't asking me to marry him, he wasn't just asking _did_ I love him, but _could_ I love him. Did I think it was real? Yes or no question.

I took in a deep breath, then said softly, "Then yes, I guess."

He was silent behind me, but he didn't let go of my hands.

"I mean," I hurried to explain, "I feel like I _could_, someday. We just met so I know I can't… you know… right now, I mean, it's so big, and there's no rush or anything, right?"

Was it just me or was I acting more like the typical teenage male than he was?

"Agreed," he said calmly. Ok, he was still stoic as a statue behind me, I continued a little more easily, "so, since there's no rush, and since we've only known each other for, what, half a day? I don't love you… right now."

"Ok…" There was an unspoken question at the end of that two syllable reply, and did I imagine a hint of disappointment?

After a second's pause I finished, "But I will… someday."

"Really?"

"Yes. I think what we have, however strangely it started-" He gave a small dark chuckle at that; I guess it was a little too soon to be cracking jokes- "I think it's powerful, and real, and I don't think it's going to fade away. I think it's going to grow. So I guess this is the falling, before the actual love part." I sounded naïve and corny even to myself, a bad soap opera I would have turned off in disgust. But it was the best way I could say it. Jordan didn't say anything, and I feared in that crucial second that's I'd blundered and lost him.

"I feel the same way."

I missed a beat in my breathing pattern. Did that mean what I think it did?

"You're the only one I've ever felt this strongly about." He continued, speaking a little more quickly, as if forcing himself to say it all before he chickened out.

"I feel myself falling in love with you- slowly but undeniably. I never jump into things like this, I've never had such a fast connection, and I'm not afraid I'm going to get hurt or be disappointed; now it's the opposite, I'm worried about messing this up, worried I'll disappoint _you_."

"You could never disappoint me."

"I hope not. I wouldn't want to do anything that might push you away. Which is strange isn't it, since last night that's exactly what I was trying to do? Exactly what I _should _do,"

"Not should, " I contradicted softly. I hated the idea of him cutting me out. I thought we'd resolved this already. Was he going to start again?

"At this point it's too late. I can't pull away, and what's more I don't want to. I want to get closer. I-"

I turned to face him suddenly, turned my face up to his and kissed him, cutting off his rant. He hesitated for a second, then parted my lips gently with his tongue and pulled me into a tighter embrace, the fingers of one hand curling into my hair. I pushed him toward the bed and he collapsed onto the mattress, pulling me down with him so that I lounged on top of his chest, turning my head to deepen the kiss, my fingers roving over the muscles of his arms, his shoulders, and back down to his hands, caressing each long finger and the calloused palms. He sighed and gently pulled his hands out of mine, placing them gently on either side of my face and pushing me back a fraction, breaking the contact between our lips.

"Are you ok?" I asked, slightly out of breath- why did he have to stop now? My blood was boiling in my veins; I didn't want to separate his mouth from mine.

Jordan's POV:

"I can't stay." I said slowly. Her eyebrows puckered comically in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"There's only one more night till the full moon. I have to leave, Dylan."

She slumped against my chest and rested her chin on my sternum, gazing up at me, frowning. I didn't like the way those intense brown-green eyes were tinged dark with unhappiness. But I also felt flattered, she didn't want me to leave, the very thought of it made her wilt in disappointment.

"Oh," she responded belatedly, looking down so that I could no longer see her eyes and tracing her fingers delicately over my stomach, I stifled a groan, "you're not making this easy." I told her, trying to ignore the sensation of her soft skin on mine. She looked up again, smiling crookedly.

"Sorry,"

"I'll bet you are." Her grin widened and she pulled herself upright, so that she sat in my lap, looking down at me as I lay flat. She placed her hands flat on my chest and spread the fingers wide, tapping out a light drum roll against my ribs. "I don't think I'm going to let you leave," she declared, looking down at me impishly.

"Oh really?" I caught her wrists, careful to avoid her bandages, and pulled her arms toward my shoulders, wrapping them around my neck and circling my hands around her waist, pulling her closer and pressing my lips teasingly to the base of her throat. She caught her breath and wriggled half-heartedly but could not pull herself upright from her new position. As I drew away at a painstakingly slow pace she raised her eyebrows at me.

"Well, you have an unfair advantage."

"I'm stronger?"

"No." she grinned, "I'm just a pushover when you do that,"

"What?"

"You know," she leaned into me and her mouth hovered an inch from mine, her warm breath sending chills of desire down my spine. "This sort of thing," she whispered, pulling her face away from mine as I raised my head to receive the kiss and instead resting her chin on her palm.

"Well, I'll try not to torture you like that."

"Good." She allowed herself to be pulled toward my mouth again and this time kissed back in full. I stroked the smooth lines of her cheekbone, her chin, marveling at how soft the skin was. Her fingers found their way to my face as well, they caressed across my forehead and down my cheeks, I hoped she wouldn't stop.

I inhaled deeply and the smell filled my lungs- the delicious human aroma- pulsing with vitality and heat. The soft vigor of honeysuckle and the tarter sweetness of pomegranate, they made my mouth water and my head spin, the skin of her lips was rosy and satin soft, so easy to tear through… I pulled back abruptly, jerking out of her hold, almost biting my own lip in my swift reaction to the instinct sizzling in my nerves.

She could tell I had pulled away for a different reason than before, didn't make a move to close the short distance between our faces again. She sat still, hands resting lightly on my chest, head cocked in uncertainty, looking down at me. "I'm sorry," I muttered, shame checking the horrible desire and forcing it back into the recesses of my mind.

"What's wrong?"

How to answer truthfully? How could I admit to the strange craving that had gripped me, that, with the full moon only twelve or so hours away, my Lycan nature was sneaking into the open, trying to pry away my resolve and force my hand in some terrible way?

I wanted to tell her, I wanted her to be aware of the danger, even more so than she already should be, I wanted her to grasp the severity of the situation. But I couldn't.

She had decided she wanted me- despite the unquestionable risk, despite my own assertion that I was not safe- she had asked me to stay. I didn't want to lose her, but I had sworn I would not lie to her; it would compromise her safety, which was something I could not endure. But how could I tell her this? -This instantaneous weakness, this passing savage thirst. Surely I could keep such details to myself? I didn't have to scare her unnecessarily. This could work- it could. She believed it would, and she wanted it to, and that was enough to convince me that there was a chance at least. Too big a chance perhaps, but I couldn't go back now, I was too attached to her, I didn't think I could let go, even if I had the faintest desire to.

I realized I hadn't answered her question. I tried to make my voice natural and easy, as I answered, "nothing."

She bit the inside of her mouth slightly, scrutinizing my answer; I tried to keep my face calm and earnest.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her tone telling me she didn't buy my response. I didn't answer that, just took her face gently in my palms and looked at her wistfully, she didn't blink, I wanted so badly to kiss her again.

I sighed and removed my hands.

"I really do need to go." I said gently, hoping she understood the gravity hidden in the simple sentence. There was a flicker of disappointment in her eyes, but she nodded, pulled herself off my chest and sat on the bed silently, watching me get up.

"I'll come back when it's safe." I promised, retrieving my jacket from the floor and tugging it on over my bare torso.

"When's that?"

"Three days."

"Can I ask where you'll be hiding out?"

I bit my lip; "I think it's better if you don't know."

"Okay," she looked disappointed again.

I leaned down and kissed her forehead gently, "I'll miss you."

"Good," she smiled half-heartedly and raised her face, catching my mouth before I straightened and kissing me in a way that made me want to forget about leaving and lie down with her again- but I didn't. I pulled away a fraction, she half smiled musingly.

"Three days?"

"Three days." I affirmed, the corners of my mouth twitching. Then I looked at her seriously, "will you please try to stay out of trouble?'

"I'll try," she forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I promise," she vowed, then I took one last long breath, inhaling the lovely floral smell that would stick in my head as long as I was away from her- and left.

**I know I abandoned you for the longest time, but if you still want to hear my story please review this recent update! I love you forever my loyal fans!**


	26. Chapter 25

Chapter 25 

Bella's POV:

"…And then he left. He never told me where he went; he didn't want me to risk coming to see him. He was never convinced I fully understood the gravity of the situation." Her face darkened momenterily as she said this, a brief downcast look, breaking eye contact with Edward for a second. She added with grim humor, "he always had that infuriating know-it-all streak."

I could privately empathize with her situation. What was it about supernatural boys that made them think they were so infallible? It was probably because they knew they were perfect… that could make anyone over-confident.

Dylan looked back up at Edward; he was frowning. "What?" I asked as he let out a low growl of annoyance. "I've lost it."

"What?" Dylan said.

"The connection to your memories, I think when you broke eye contact… it slipped away from me." His tone was tinged with frustration, his eyebrows were pulled close in irritation, the way he always was when he thought he was loosing in some way.

"Oh… sorry." She tapped her fingers distractedly on her knee.

"We'll keep going, I'm sure I can get it back." Edward replied somewhat forcefully.

She leaned back with a strangled groan, cradling her head in her hands and dragging her fingers through her still-wet hair. "This is harder than I would have thought possible- and we haven't even gotten to the bad stuff yet."

"You don't consider being attacked twice in one night by vampires 'bad stuff'?" I asked, half joking, but genuinely curious. Dylan looked up, hazel eyes suddenly flat and cold as stone. She replied without hesitation, without humor, in a careful monotone,

"No."

I felt a small shiver crawl up my neck. I wondered what could possibly have happened that would make her go so cold so suddenly, withdraw so instinctively into herself. I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to know.

The moment of tension hung in the air, broken by another quite groan from Dylan, this time one of remorse. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

"Yes you did." Edward said softly. She shot him a swift irked look before adding, "Alright- I _did _mean it, but I _didn't_ mean to be rude about it- is that better?"

Edward's mouth twitched at her irritated tone, but he merely nodded graciously, "It's your apology."

"Thank you." She gave him another glare before looking at me for my reaction. I waved my hand dismissively, "forget it, it's okay."

"Thank you," my "thank you" wasn't nearly as scathing as the one Edward received, I suppressed a smile.

He spoke, less sarcastically this time, drawing our attention back to him.

"Are you ready to continue?"

"I guess so." She took a deep breath, releasing her irritation.

"Just try to do what you did before. Relax. Think of it as meditation, emptying your mind of barriers." Edward instructed, voice like silk.

"I was never much of a yoga girl," Dylan joked listlessly, lifting her legs up onto the bed and crossing them, ironically in the typical yoga pose.

"Where was I again?"

"Jordan left your apartment as a precaution for the full moon."

"Right," she gazed off into space for a second before shaking her head and looking back at Edward. "Should I keep looking at you?"

"It will probably help."

"Your eyes remind me of his," she reflected softly, gazing at Edward with a preoccupied expression containing none of her momentary vexation. "That same thing, the way they glow…they make people dizzy." She shook her head and started toying with one of the silver rings on her fingers, speaking slowly.

"After he left I went into the bathroom to change the bandages on the bite. I'd almost forgotten about it, it barely hurt at all. There was this stinging at first, right after he bit me… this horrible weird burning, like I'd poured gasoline into it or pushed tons of little red-hot needles into my arm, but it wore off the night before, almost right away."

I knew the sensation she was describing, the fire-like pain of vampire venom invading the bloodstream. When I'd experienced it the burn had been so potent I'd screamed in agony, and it hadn't stopped until Edward had sucked every last drop of the poison from my veins. How was it that Dylan had gotten over the pain so easily? Edward spoke my thoughts aloud…

"The burning pain was the vampire venom that was deposited into your blood when Charles bit you. The bite should have supplied enough venom to infect your entire circulatory system… the pain should have been unbearable, it should have lasted hours… days. It should have changed you."

"It must have another effect of her healing abilities." Alice said, more than a little awed.

"But the bite didn't heal right away," Dylan corrected.

"Nor did the bites from the Lycan?"

"No… they barely stopped bleeding for days after he attacked me, and I was always moving, so they never really had a chance to…"

"And they were infected with Lycan venom."

"They were infected because I was sleeping in the dirt and swimming around in polluted ocean water. There were probably dozens of different kinds of bacteria-"

"It may be that your body can only heal itself quickly when the wound is natural. Perhaps the presence of vampire or werewolf poison in the blood halts the regeneration process."

That made Dylan give pause for a second, she bit her lip.

"But the werewolf venom _didn't_ infect me, I mean, how do you even know there _was _venom? I didn't feel anything, at least, nothing like the burning, just the normal pain." I felt a little quesy as I remembered the gruesome gore of her injuries. The pain they must have caused was surely much, much more than "normal".

"Lycan venom acts more slowly than vampire venom, and it is not nearly as painful until the actual transformation occurs during the full moon. So you wouldn't have felt the poison. And Carlisle said that there was not enough venom in your wounds to infect you totally. I suppose vampire venom is more potent in small measures as well."

"Those bites were hardly small." Alice noted darkly. Edward nodded,

"Yes, that's true… There should have been more than enough to infect her…"

"Could whatever magic that healed her injuries also counteract poisons like those, diminish them or dilute them, to protect her body from supernatural transformation or mutation?"

"It's possible, but she-"

"_She_ is still here you know," Dylan piped up.

Edward and Alice looked at her again, their speculations halted momenterilly.

"So I can't be infected by magical poisons… is that what we've established?"

"Yes," Alice replied.

"It's just a theory," Edward corrected.

"But if you had to bet?"

"I'd say it's probably accurate," Edward conceded.

"Ok…" Dylan rolled one of the smooth silver rings over her palm, "So… so you could bite me, and inject enough venom to kill a horse or something, and I'd still be fine?"

"Our venom doesn't kill-" Alice began.

"Every time." Edward finished. Alice shot him a look. Obviously that bit was for my benefit. I shook my head at his childish scare tactic; I'd reprimand him later…

Alice spoke again "In that situation… say, if a vampire were deliberately _trying_ to change you, I can't be sure it wouldn't work. But if past events are any indication, you are almost certainly immune to the venoms of our kind and of Lycans."

"Well that's good, I guess…"

She rolled the ring between her fingers faster, up and down across her hand, down under her thumb and up over her knuckles, never once pausing, a slight of hand I could never accomplish with my horrendous coordination.

"Why are you disappointed?" Edward asked softly.

She cut off the manuvering of her ring and slid it back onto her finger, "I'm not."

"You are… I can hear it in your thoughts…"

"Don't do that!" her voice rose a little, "stop prying around in my head, I'm not telling the story right now, you have no right to be listening in on me!"

"It is my God given right, so to speak, to use my gift as I see fit."

"I'm not disappointed about anything,"

"You were hoping for something, and now you know it can never be achieved, and that disappoints you, it upsets you. Why? What is it you were hoping to do?"

"Why don't you just read my mind?"

"I can't, you've blocked off that subject entirely, I can't decipher the answer." He leaned in a little closer, his eyes unblinking and radiant ocher. "Why don't you just tell me?"

I heard Dylan catch her breath a little. For all that she seemed to find Edward irritating and invasive, she, like any other mere mortal, was subject to the lure of a vampire.

I didn't think Edward was playing fair at all, he _knew _the effect he had on people, especially on girls, he was such as cheater!

"Dylan," I said loudly, her eyes turned to me reluctantly and blinked, I heard Edward mutter "Traitor," just loud enough for me to hear. I ignored him, but Dylan did not, she turned back to him, her cheeks turning pink with anger, "You! You manipulative, smarmy-"

"There's no need for insults!" Alice sang out, placing a hand on Dylan's shoulder; she too cast a disapproving look at Edward, "And _you_, you know it's not fair to do that."

"She isn't being honest, I thought that was one of the conditions of this arrangement."

"I'm not being dishonest- I'm _not _disappointed!"

"Yes, you are."

Dylan opened her mouth to retort, but suddenly stopped, she dropped her shoulders and closed her eyes in sudden defeat; all the fight seemed to leak out of her.

"It's stupid… it probably wouldn't have worked anyway… or I wouldn't have gone through with it. I just…" she rubbed her eyes as if suddenly tired, pushing her forehead into her palms. "I just thought maybe, I could get one of you to change me, or another werewolf… then he wouldn't have a reason to hunt me anymore."

No one replied to this confession. The idea was so absurd, and yet so darkly rational at the same time. And it was wrought with horrific desperation. What could have driven her to this? To a desire to forfeit her humanity… not out of a desire for immortality, nor out of a desire to spend eternity with the one she loved- but out of despair, because she felt there was no other way for her to be free of this nightmare? And now not even the option of a supernatural change could save her.

It seemed nothing ever panned out in Dylan's favor. Every hand she was dealt was useless, another dead end. And she'd thought the Cullens could help her… that's what she'd meant…

I was filled with a sudden rush of anguish and pity, for there was a small and relentless whisper in the back of my mind that illuminated how similar Dylan and I were.

We were so alike, our love for that which was never meant for humans, and the pain we'd had to suffer because of it. Only it was worse for her, far worse… she had lost something, though I had no idea what, or how, or why, she had lost something, something precious and irreplaceable that had driven her to her current way of life: a never-ending flight for her own survival, without food or rest or peace.

Could that happen to Edward and me? Could we hit that breaking point, where everything we felt and had worked for and shared came crashing down around us? The possibility of this was even more threatening in that I still had no idea what it was that had torn Dylan and Jordan apart.

The way she talked about the beginning of their relationship, the fire and the tenderness and the instant perfect symmetry of their connection… she had been so in love with him. How had it gone so wrong?

"What happened?" I asked, my voice a little hoarse. Alice and Edward were silent, Dylan's arms were crossed and she gripped her elbows so tightly her knuckles were turning white. For a second it seemed as if she wasn't breathing. Then she licked her lips and opened her mouth to answer…

**If I may say so myself that was a pretty kickass little addition after my long-term hiatus… a good chapter, no?**

**Whether you think so or not you'd better all review!!!!**


	27. Chapter 26

Chapter 26 

Jordan's POV:

(One year ago…)

Though I knew it was more polite and conventional to enter through the front door, for the past few months I'd fallen into the habit of bypassing the apartment entrance and simply climbing the fire escape up to Dylan's room. Her sister disapproved, she'd told me, but it did help in the department of privacy. As far as Dylan was aware, her erratic and flaky mother still had no idea her daughter had a boyfriend, let alone that he snuck in almost every night through the bedroom window. The current arrangement suited me just fine, as I felt uncomfortable with the idea of interacting with Dylan's family.

They seemed so foreign to me- the mother and sister with whom I shared the girl I loved. My own parents had rejected me after realizing what I had become, and I hadn't seen or spoken to either of them in six years. I couldn't picture meeting Dylan's family- normal people who supported and loved her, and would no doubt be horrified to know what horrible creature she was involved with- it was too surreal. Dylan felt it best that her mother remain oblivious of her romantic affairs, and she was wary of exposing me to her cynical sister, stating quite frankly, "I love her, but that meeting will only complicate things."

So we had established an unspoken arrangement; I did not come to the apartment during the day, if she and I were going to do something together we would meet outside of her building, but I never came up to the front door. In the evenings after her mother and sister had gone to sleep I would climb through Dylan's window and we would have the whole night to ourselves, undisturbed, talking, laughing, kissing. And every month for the three days of the full moon I would relocate to the deserts outside of the city, far from civilization, and far from Dylan.

For almost a year this arrangement had worked out perfectly. My paranoia and caution had relaxed over the past few months, and now I was here in the city on a day when I would normally be a hundred miles away baking in the hot sun. It was against all my normal precautions to be so close to humans on the eve of the full moon, but I had a special reason: Today was Dylan's birthday.

She'd told me it didn't matter if I missed it, that she didn't care; it was nothing to make a fuss over. But I felt differently. Celebrating a birthday was something normal couples did by going out to dinner, giving gifts… it was an occasion to show exceptional devotion, and I didn't think it at all acceptable for me to miss it.

So I was still here in LA, against my normal code of behavior, walking toward Dylan's apartment with a wrapped package and a bouquet of fresh white lilies, just like any normal man off to surprise his love. It felt good to be normal, if only for a few minutes, to pass along the sidewalk and not think about the moon or Lycans or vampires or anything other than the girl of my dreams, and how surprised and delighted my efforts would make her.

I turned into the alley between the organic market Dylan's family lived over and the Laundromat next to it and climbed the iron fire escape with familiar ease. As always her window was unlatched, I slid the glass up and climbed inside, careful not to ruffle the flowers too much.

As usual the tiny bedroom was a mess- clothing and cds and papers strewn about as though a tornado had passed through, the bed unmade with blankets tossed onto the floor, the desk piled high with drawings, books, and unfinished homework. The battered cd player was humming out a low tune, some song I couldn't identify.

The door of the bathroom was half open and steam was floating out, but there was no sound of the shower going. I placed the gift and bouquet on the bed and approached, knocked lightly, "Dylan?" I called softly, entering without waiting for a response. As I stepped in my eyes immediately caught a slim tan form stepping out of the shower before- she let out a shriek of alarm and seized a towel, throwing it around her body. "Jordan, get out!" She yelled, shoving me forcefully back through the door and slamming it in my face. I stood in mild shock, blinked, trying to process what I'd just seen and suppressing a grin. She swung the door open a few seconds later, her long wet hair hanging down the back of her black t-shirt, her dark eyes flashing dangerously.

"Happy birthday," I said as innocently as I could, trying to keep my eyes from straying down her figure, which only moments before I'd glimpsed in all its glory… "Don't give me that," she snapped, glaring into my eyes as though she knew exactly what I'd been thinking about.

"I didn't know I was dating a peeping tom!" She told me fiercely, crossing her arms angrily over her chest. I straightened up indignantly,

"I am not a peeping tom- it was purely accidental."

"Oh really?"

"Besides," I added mischievously, stepping a bit closer and looking down into her pink face, "I don't know why you're so upset, it's certainly nothing to be ashamed of-"

"You are unbelievable!" she cried, flinging her arms in the air and striding away from me to turn up the music. I followed cheerfully and slipped my arms around her waist as she stood over the cd player.

"Think of it as a nice birthday surprise," I joked, resting my chin on top of her wet head,

"It's not _your _birthday." She reminded me, the irritation a little less pronounced now,

"True." I agreed, grinning, "But that doesn't matter."

"You're lucky I like you so much," she said, no longer yelling, turning to look up at me from under her long lashes, "Otherwise I think I'd have to call the cops."

I kissed her lightly and felt her rise up on her toes to receive my mouth more fully. Apparently I was forgiven.

"Happy birthday," I muttered against her lips, reluctant to pull away and articulate more fully.

"Thanks doll," she murmured in her most seductive voice, stepping back from me impishly and picking up her hairbrush, pulling it through her slick black hair with her back to me. She flicked a stray strand out of her face and turned to look at me again, fresh and stunning in her simple jeans and Nirvana t-shirt, smiling gloriously.

"Oh- are those for me?!" she cried, catching sight of the present and flowers lying on her bed. "Of course," I said, scooping them up and presenting them to her properly.

"Oh, thank you, you didn't have to-"

"I wanted to," I interrupted firmly, she grinned wider.

"Thank you, you may be a pervert, but you're sweet." I let out a bark of laughter as she inhaled the rich smell of the lilies, closing her eyes pleasantly.

"Open your gift," I encouraged her, she opened her eyes and raised her eyebrows curiously,

"What is it?"

"Open it and find out."

She pulled the tissue paper off eagerly and lifted the lid of the small black box; staring down at an arrangement of polished silver rings nestled in blue velvet. "Oh," she whispered, gazing down at them in awe.

"Do you like them?"

"They're beautiful." She said, caressing the engraved designs; she looked up at me, "Thank you so much. I love them."

"They were my great grandmother's." I said, gently lifting them out of the box and sliding them one at a time onto her fingers, ignoring the faint sting of the silver, it didn't hurt half as much as it would have if I were in my Lycan form. "Her husband had them made for her, one for each year they were married."

"Only four years?" she asked softly, as I slipped the last one onto her left ring finger. "Yes," I answered, "He vanished during a trip to England, no one ever found out what happened to him. The man who took his place several years later was my great-grandfather. But she always kept the rings, and passed them down to my grandmother, and then down to my mother. I took them when I ran away, I thought maybe I could sell them… but I never did."

"Not the most romantic end to the story, but I love them anyway."

"I'm glad."

She looped her arms around my neck and kissed me, long and lazy, the kind of kiss that I would happily spend the rest of my life in, if only I could.

"Do you love me?" she asked, an old joke of ours, after the first awkward conversation about love we'd had the morning after we'd met.

"More than anything…"

"Good answer," she whispered, letting her lips linger tantalizingly on mine for a moment before pulling away and asking in a normal voice- "So, shouldn't you be heading out to wherever it is you hide during the full moon?" She'd started to keep track of the moon phases just as I did, so that she knew when to expect my absences. It both amused and saddened me… I loved that she cared enough to try to understand, but hated that she too lived her life by the changing of the moon… she deserved better than that. I shoved this though aside, and answered,

"I think I'm going to stay the rest of the day, I'll leave an hour before sunset, that'll give me enough time to get out of the city before the moon rises."

She raised her eyebrows, "So reckless today," she commented, trying to mask her surprise. "Why this change of plan?"

"Because," I said, tracing her cheekbone softly with one finger, "It is your birthday, and I am going to take you out to dinner like a normal guy."

"Since when are you a normal guy?" she asked jokingly. My answer was serious, "I'm not, but I am trying." She smiled and kissed my cheek, murmuring, "you don't have to try, I love you just like this, werewolf and all."

"Well, be that as it may," I said, pulling away a little and taking her hand, "we are going out to have a fabulous meal and celebrate your birthday properly."

"Oh, I'm so excited, will there be booze?" I gave her a sharp look,

"Joke!" she said, raising her hands in assurance, "Honestly, sometimes you act more like my older brother than my boyfriend."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment." I replied easily, pausing as she pulled on her shoes then leading her over to the window,

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes.

"Should you tell your family you're leaving?"

"I'll call Emily later… she'll just try to stop me if I tell her now, besides, they aren't home."

"Alright then," I climbed out of the window and offered my hand to help her out.

"So, where are we going?" she asked brightly as she started down the ladder.

"That's for me to know and you to find out," I said with mock sternness as I followed her down, "just wait and see."

A little over an hour before dusk Dylan and I left the downtown restaurant and headed back toward her apartment, ten or so blocks away. I looped my arm around her waist as we meandered through the fuggy yellow air of the sun-basked boulevard. Los Angeles before evening set in was sizzling and turbulent, everyone leaving work or heading out or making their way toward one of the many public transportation posts.

"Isn't LA beautiful at this time of day?" Dylan interrupted my observations, as always speaking as though she could hear what I was thinking. I raised my eyebrows at her,

"This city- beautiful?"

"I'm serious," she said, giving me a playful shove, but not so hard as to disengage my hold around her waist.

"Come on, when the light is like this and everything is sort of dizzying, you can't deny it has a certain beauty to it." I cocked my head and tried to see what she was seeing. The shifting golden light of the sinking sun combined with the constant layer of smog that veiled the city made everything hazy and dream-like.

"I guess it does." I agreed, intrigued as always at the way she took something I thought I understood and changed it.

I paused and kissed her, again a long, luxurious kiss that could last forever; the smell of honeysuckle tickling my darker instincts, but over the past few months I'd learned to ignore the craving- I crushed the desire and concentrated on her lips. She ran her fingers through my hair and down my neck and I felt the vague burn of the silver, contrastingly cold against the heat of her skin on mine, almost pleasant. I leaned in closer, pressing our bodies together, running my lips down her neck. After a moment she pulled away, a little out of breath.

"What was that for?" she asked, running her hand through her own hair, eyes bright.

"Nothing, just for you." She laughed and made to resume our walk, but looked back at me when I did not move, curious.

I was suddenly rigid, I turned my head, my eyes searching the nearby buildings warily. I'd caught a strange scent on the air, something quite different from the muddle of human smells and car exhaust… something I hadn't smelled in some time… the last thing I wanted to encounter right now.

"What is it?" Dylan asked, eying me uncertainly. I tightened my grip on her fingers and stepped in front of her, yanking her behind me as I hurried along the street.

"What's wrong?" she demanded, stumbling over a rise in the pavement as I dragged her toward the corner.

"We have to get out of here-"

"Why?"

I didn't answer, I was too busy scanning the throng of people crossing the street to respond… there! Another flicker of the scent… a flash of golden hair…

"This way!" I jerked her suddenly to the right, around the corner onto another busy avenue of restaurants and shops, pushing past pedestrians and commuters.

"Jordan-" She sounded irritated and worried now, picking up on my own distress; but still I didn't look back or explain it to her, just towed her along as quickly as I could, my eyes skimming this way and that, my nostrils flared to catch the slightest hint of danger.

I pulled her behind one building, skirted along behind the stores and cut through a fast-food parking lot, and across another street, another left turn, into a deserted side street. It was more a large alley than a street, flanked on either side by tall, whitewashed brick and at the end by a chain-link fence, beyond that was a multi-level parking garage. I saw the fence and stopped, turned around to go back out when I heard light footsteps and smelled the distinct scent again- I stopped dead, Dylan bumping to a halt behind me.

"Well, well, Jordan, long time no see?" came a light humorous voice, raised in friendly interest. I half turned and saw the tall, blond man strolling leisurely toward us, the yellow sunlight and late afternoon shadows rendering him in sinister detail, illuminating only half his smiling face.

"Hello, Tobias." I said, trying to make my voice as airy as his, trying to act as though I was not running from him, that we'd merely run into each other here by accident.

"It _has_ been a while."

"Too long," he said, his voice tinged with theatrical regret, then the friendly zeal returned.

"I didn't know you'd returned to Los Angeles, my boy. The last time we saw each other was… oh, Paris, wasn't it?"

"Montmartre." I corrected, subtly shifting in front of Dylan, blocking her from his view. She, thankfully, hadn't said a word yet, not drawing any attention to herself… I wondered if she could sense the danger…

"Ah yes, Montmartre. What a lovely place… I was sad to leave it," he sighed forlornly, then added with exaggerated resignation,

"well, c'est la vie."

"Indeed."

He laughed, pausing in his walk and turning his head to look at me through twinkling black eyes, "You're different Jordan, you seem tense… on edge. Why ever could that be? I'm not making you nervous, am I?"

"Not at all, it's always a pleasure running into old friends."

"Isn't it?" he sighed happily, then clapped his hands suddenly, "oh, silly me, I nearly forgot, look who else is here!" he gestured behind him to the two other men who had stepped forward coolly, one taller than both Tobias and myself, dark-skinned and expressionless, the other smaller and more compact, his unruly dark hair cut shorter than when I'd last seen him. I inclined my head politely, "John, Andrew."

"Nice to see you, Jordan," Andrew said gently, half smiling.

"Jordan…" The slender figure drew closer from behind the two men, her long white-blond hair hanging down the back of her silky blouse, her blue eyes glinting.

"Remember me?" she asked, playfully.

"Of course, Olivia, it's good to see you again." Her lips tugged up in an amused smile, she strode up to stand beside Tobias, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she walked.

"Our old friend seems uneasy, don't you think, my dear?" He asked her, inclining his head for her response but not taking his eyes off me. "Yes, he _is_ standing a bit oddly," she agreed.

"Do you think it's because he's hiding that little girl behind him?" Andrew speculated, his tone mock inquiring. My muscles tensed but I didn't move,

"Why I do think that might be it! Jordan, step aside; let us see your friend!" Tobias cried dramatically, waving an encouraging hand at me. I hesitated for a brief second, but there was nothing for it… I took a small step to the side, exposing Dylan, standing quite still behind me, her hand still in mine.

"Oh, you've got yourself a girlfriend, have you?" Olivia asked, raising her eyebrows, her mouth pulling down despite her light tone. I didn't respond.

"Well she is pretty, I'll give you that, well picked, my boy." Tobias commented, his smile growing wider. "Young lady, come closer; what's your name?" Dylan didn't move, her eyes flicked to me questioningly, but I couldn't say a word without further peaking Tobias' interest; my jaw tightened.

"Don't you have a name, my dear?" He teased when she didn't respond.

"Come now, I'm sure it's as lovely as you are-"

"Stop it, Tobias." I said softly, meeting his gaze coldly. He flicked a non-existent particle of dust from the sleeve of his crisp white shirt, smiled indulgently.

"What's the matter, Jordan? I'm just making conversation,"

"Leave her alone." I said from between my teeth, fighting to appear calm.

Andrew laughed on my right, speaking to Olivia, "Looks like he's replaced you, Liv. I always knew blondes weren't his type-"

"Shut up." Olivia snapped quietly, turning her fierce blue gaze back to me, speaking with forced poise.

"Is this what it looks like, Jordan? Have you actually found yourself a genuine love interest? And a human at that… well, your tastes are _unique_, I'll give you that."

"Now, be fair, Olivia." Tobias said, raising his hand in mollification, "Jordan made it clear that he had severed all ties with out pack, and with you,"

"Funny, I didn't think he could just sever ties with the people who taught him everything he knows and made him who he is… I didn't think it was that simple." She said icily, referring to the period I had spent with the pack for four odd years, mostly in Europe…

Right after I'd run away from home Tobias had found me and offered me acceptance and protection as a member of his group. I of course, being young and frightened and unsure of what I was, had jumped at his offer. They had indeed taught me everything I knew of Lycans, and vampires, and many other things beside, but had been most irritated that I would not kill humans as they did… this rift had eventually driven us apart and I had struck out on my own… But that was over, over and done with, and she knew that.

"Olivia, we were never together," I said coldly, "you know that, we discussed it enough." She flashed her teeth in a sardonic smile, as though I were talking nonsense, then turned her eyes to Dylan.

"How long have you known him, girl?"

"Don't." I growled, but she went on, raising her voice a little,

"Answer me- how long?"

Dylan hesitated, unsure of what to do… under Olivia's glacial scrutiny she finally answered, "about a year."

"Well I've known him quite longer, what do you suppose is the difference between your relationship with him and mine?-"

"The fact that we never _had_ one." I interrupted vehemently, she ignored me, finishing, "What is it he sees in you?"

"Olivia-" Tobias said soothingly,

"Back off." I growled, meeting her antagonistic gaze.

"You don't have any quarrel with her."

"Oh, you're protecting her! How sweet!" Olivia said with false tenderness, then leaned in a little closer… "What's the matter, Jordan? Afraid we might take a liking to that pretty little neck of hers?"

"I'm warning you…"

"I must say," she continued, smiling unpleasantly, flashing her bright white teeth… "She does smell absolutely delicious… I'm surprised you've been able to resist it."

She moved in a half circle slowly, examining Dylan from different angles as I stood tensed before her,

"A human lover… that must be so troublesome… but we could fix that, couldn't we?" she reached for Dylan's arm and I let out a guttural snarl that made her pause. Then she grinned and stepped back as if it was of no matter, flipping her hair behind her shoulder again. "Of course, how rude of me, you want to do the honors,"

"I'm not changing her."

"Change her?" she laughed, all silver and hollow, "I was actually thinking of killing her, Jordan. Weren't you? It would no doubt simplify your life; humans are so problematic. You can't actually care about her enough to consider making her one of us?"

"No, I care enough to make sure she _isn't_."

"Still taking the road-less-traveled are we, Jordan?" Tobias asked from behind Olivia, resting a hand on her shoulder with a placatory murmur, and stepping up beside her, closer to Dylan and me.

"I take it you're still the same old sophistic cynic? Living under the sway of the moon?" he didn't wait for an answer, shaking his head, tutting, "That's no way for one so noble as yourself to live."

"I believe it's more noble to refrain from murder, Tobias." I said calmly, "I believe it was this very argument that forced me to leave your group in France. You've lived your way, and I've lived mine… I'm quite content with the way it works." He arched one golden eyebrow, the black eyes beneath glinting derisively.

"Well, your martyrdom makes it more difficult for all of us, doesn't it?"

"In what way?"

"Oh, don't act so detached, Jordan, you know we valued your presence in our pack- you were strong and gifted, despite your… limitations. Won't you consider coming back, my boy? You've been most missed, hasn't he, Olivia?" she didn't answer, her eyes straying from me to Dylan and back again in disinterest.

"I'm sorry to disappoint, Tobias, but I think we've discussed how our differences of opinion complicate my relationship with your pack. I think it's best we just leave things as they are."

Tobias laughed again, "Always the loner, Jordan, you're so withdrawn." His eyes moved onto Dylan, inquiring "Is he so remote with you, my dear?"

She shook her head a fraction, pressing her lips together.

"I thought not." He smiled again, leaning in to take her hand, I made to stop him but Andrew and John both growled behind me, moving closer threateningly; I stopped. Dylan did not pull back as the lean blond man took her fingers gently, rubbing the pad of his thumb along her fingertips. He rested his lips against her hand like a Victorian gentleman, for just a moment longer than he should have, breathing in deeply. Then his eyes opened and met hers; she was still as a statue.

"You smell divine, my dear. He's very lucky to have found you." He straightened up and cocked his head toward me. "will you change her, Jordan?"

"No." I said, restraining the growl in my voice.

"Well then," he sighed, rocking back on the balls of his feet. "That is a pity, would have killed two birds with one stone, so to speak."

"I'm afraid not." I replied gravely, then pulled Dylan closer behind me and straightened.

"We'll be leaving now, Tobias, if you don't mind. The sun will be setting soon, and I have to prepare for the moon. It was a pleasure to run into you, perhaps we'll see each other again." I turned away from him, inclining my head once to John and Andrew, not looking at Olivia. I started walking toward the opening of the alley, Dylan keeping step behind me, and I heard Tobias say, as if as an afterthought… "I'm afraid you can't leave, my boy." I paused, looked back at him coldly.

"I think you'll find I can."

"No, no, no." he shook his head regretfully, taking a half step toward us.

"You see, I do believe I've come up with a resolution to our little problem. You don't want to change the girl, and we want you to rejoin our group, as a full-fledged wolf. Don't you see how simple the solution is?" out of the corner of my eye I saw Olivia and Andrew move in closer on either side of us, Tobias continued as if he didn't notice, finishing in a business-like voice, "We'll simply have you kill this one, it'll be quick and painless I assure you, and then we can feed."

In a flash he stepped forward and grasped Dylan's arm, pulling her out of my hold in one lightning-quick jerk. I snarled and leapt at him but John had crept up behind me unnoticed- he threw me back and pinned me to the ground, a menacing canine growl emanating from his throat. I tried to throw him off and felt Andrew's foot crushing my hand into the pavement, while the other pressed down on my neck. I gasped in pain and tried to use my free hand to get loose, panicking as the pressure of their combined weight crushed the air out of my lungs, and Andrew's foot made it impossible for me to draw in more. My hand grasped Andrew's ankle desperately, trying to shove him off as I struggled for breath.

"Jordan!" Dylan tried to wrench her arm out of Tobias' hold, but he gripped her wrist like a vice and smiled as she strained to reach me. She spun on him and cried, "tell them to let him go! He can't breathe- they're going to kill him!"

"Shh," he said soothingly, "don't fret my dear, he'll be able to free himself soon enough…look up there." He pointed up at the twilit sky, soaked in purple and orange; the sun was almost set and over the horizon, veiled and faint but unmistakably there, was the shining orb of the full moon. A cloud moved aside and it came into full view, tinged orange by the sunset but free of its cloud cloak, a glowing beacon of disaster.

No---

I felt my blood begin to boil, my arms and legs shuddered, my heart rate accelerated unstoppably, my skin stretched and burned as my muscles expanded and fur extended across my body, I yelled in pain and dread, my voice growing deeper and rasping… until my yell was a howl.

And suddenly the weight of the two men leaning down on me was nothing… despite their advanced strength, I batted them away like insects.

"Are you ready to run, my dear?" Tobias asked teasingly as Dylan stared in horror at the monster I'd warped into before her eyes. My sensitive hearing detected his familiar voice and I wheeled in his direction, sniffing the air.

Tobias gave off the unmistakable scent of a fellow wolf, not a prey… but the human… her name- it was already difficult to remember as the animal instincts surged into my brain, drowning out all human influence- the girl smelled amazing, delicious; I had to taste her… I growled as I fought to reign in this urge- no, I would not-

Tobias pulled her close and cupped her face in his hand, murmuring, "We're going to give you a fighting chance, my dear, though it will do you no good. I suggest you run fast… your lover looks hungry." He kissed her cheek lightly and then threw her from him with sudden force. She stumbled and caught herself on the brick wall, turning to look at me with huge eyes. I quivered with mounting force, struggling to remain still, forcing myself not to charge at her, but I could hear the rushing of blood through her veins and smell the mouth-watering human scent, and I lunged-

She spun aside and I smashed into the brick wall, cracking several of the bricks and shaking loose the mortar… I pushed off the wall and spun to find the girl again…

The others immediately transformed as well, willfully, gnashing their teeth in excitement, barking encouragement, urging me on. They followed along behind me excitedly as I tore after my prey…

She was faster than I'd anticipated, hurtling around buildings and through bushes and across roads where cars honked and screeched to a stop to keep from hitting her. I locked onto her smell, galloping after her with blind intent, being urged on by the snarls and yowls of my fellow wolves, who were falling behind, unable to keep pace with me…

The human shot into an alley and I was about to hurtle in for the attack when I felt myself begin to tremble… I looked up and saw a thick furl of smog move in to obscure the moon hanging in the indigo darkness of the sky. I shuddered and jolted, curled up into a fetal ball as I felt my skeleton caving in, shrinking, shifting until… I lay gasping on the cool concrete, my human body wrapped in the remnant of my clothing and sweat breaking out all down my face and chest. I got to my feet, disoriented for a moment, then everything hurtled back into place in my head-

"Dylan!" I screamed, stumbling into the alley, my legs weak and unstable, my parched throat making my voice crack.

"Dylan!" I saw her skid to a stop at the end of the alley; she turned, saw me and ran back, almost slipping in a puddle as she rushed to my side. "Jordan," her voice was shaking,

"What's happening- why are you-"

"Don't" I pressed my hand against her lips, silencing her, "Don't… there isn't time, listen to me…" I felt a stab of nausea and turned my face skyward; the clouds were shifting again, a corner of the moon was peaking out from behind its cover. My words were rushed, "I can't stop this- I can't control it- you have to run-" I broke off as my limbs began to quiver, I felt my pulse quickening uncomfortably… "Get home or to a public place or a subway or something… somewhere indoors… don't look back at me, not even once-" Half of the moon was now shining unopposed above us, my breathing was coming in short bursts… "I don't want to hurt you, please, run-" my hands as they clutched hers were shaking as though in a fit, I pushed her away from me and stumbled back… "Go!" She opened her mouth but couldn't speak, she took a step back, watching my body convulsing, then she ran.

In another three seconds the moon was free of its cover and I had transformed again. I spun in the alley as I soaked in the scent dangling in the air, fresh and strong. I heard the guttural cries of the other, coming closer, but I didn't wait for them, it was my kill to make… I rushed down the alley, following the trail.

Dylan's POV:

I barely had time to think as Jordan shook uncontrollably, the pupils of his eyes growing slit-like, his teeth expanding sickeningly… I ran, panic pounding in my chest like a heavy drum, my brain barely registering what I was doing as instinct took over and my body switched to autopilot. I skidded around corners and shot through narrow alleys and cracks between buildings, stumbling over trash and stairwells, never once glancing over my shoulder.

Once I glimpsed a homeless man curled up in front of a dumpster as I sped past, and two blocks over I heard wild animal snarls and a man's terrified scream echo across the rooftops. For a second I froze in horror before a fresh wave of fearful adrenaline rushed through my body. I sprinted across a lane of moving cars, nearly getting mowed down by a truck whose brights nearly blinded me… and still I didn't look back. Terror was taking over every fiber of my body, I was panting, my vision had narrowed, I could feel my entire body quivering and the muscles of my legs stabbing with over-exertion, but I couldn't stop…

I couldn't hear the sounds of pursuit from behind me over the clamor of traffic, but I knew they couldn't be far. I dove into the alley beside my building, sprinting to the fire escape without pausing to think… I scrabbled desperately at the rungs of the rusty ladder, dragging myself up as quickly as I could. My fingers had just grasped the edge of the platform when I heard heavy pounding footfalls and a deafening rumble of feral anticipation…

I looked down and saw the monstrous wolf that had been Jordan blocking the entrance of the alleyway. His luminous green eyes locked onto my suspended form, saliva dripping from his snout as he bared his massive fangs. For an instant time seemed to stop as he stared directly into my face with eyes that showed no trace of humanity or emotion, only raw hunger, the cold hard flash of predatory intent. For that suspended moment my heart stopped- he wanted to kill me, he was going to kill me-

He lunged forward and latched his jaws onto the bottom step of the ladder and my body jolted back into movement. I scrambled up onto the iron platform and yanked open my window feverishly, rolling into my bedroom and slamming it shut so forcefully I nearly crushed my own fingers.

I fumbled for the lock and stumbled away from it, sweat pouring down into my eyes and muddling my vision. I dragged my hand across my eyes to clear them and heard the high rending screech of metal twisting and tearing as the werewolf climbed the ladder with difficulty.

I sprang for the door and tripped over a pile of mess lying on the floor beside my bed, landing on my hands and knees with a thud, I started get to my feet and there was a colossal CRASH as the wolf smashed through the window, shattering the glass and sending shards of it pelting across the floor like hailstones. I covered my head with my arms as the pieces flew across the room, still crouching beside my bed, as the wolf raised himself onto his two hind legs, his head scrapping the ceiling, and I heard the click of the door opening and my sister's startled voice as she spoke my name-

Jordan's POV:

The door opened and my prey stood totally exposed in the wooden frame, her delicate hand resting on the doorknob, her familiar face bearing an expression of pure shock. She gasped her own name in a dazed voice and the light from the room beyond lit up her slender fragile form and the glossy black hair… she was absolutely perfect in everyway, and she was mine. I roared a deafening savage cry of triumph and lunged-

One desperate scream escaped her before I tore into her throat.

"No!!!" A high, horrific scream shattered the ringing silence left in the wake of the girl's final cry. Still crouching over my prey I twisted around and saw the exact same girl I had just killed, half crouched behind me- the same large terrified eyes, the same black hair, the same tan skin… but an entirely different scent. I shook my head violently, sending the hot blood flying from my nose and mouth, licked my teeth. I raised my snout and sniffed the air raggedly. It was saturated with the aroma of the fresh blood seeping across the floor from the human's ravaged throat, but the smell was not that of honeysuckle… I tried to harness the insane ferocious hunger that had gripped me in the thrill of the kill, and struggled to comprehend... The human who's blood trickled between my teeth was not the one I had pursued… she stood right here before me, undeniably swathed in the distinct scent that had scent me mad with hunger… how-

Dylan's POV:

I screamed again as blood-curdling lupine howls sounded from across the room.

Two other Lycans clawed their way through the shattered window with snarls of eagerness, sniffing the air and snapping their jaws hungrily as they caught the scent of the fresh blood. One of them stalked forward on all fours, his massive claws scratching on the wood of the floor, moving toward Emily, licking at the spreading pool of red, bringing his teeth up to the gushing jugular at the open throat. My sister… her blood seeping across the floor… her body sprawled out, totally still…

"No!" I screamed as he opened his mouth to tear into her neck- "Get away from her!"

I felt unbearable terrifying pain flooding my entire being, anguish and shock and absolute overpowering burning horror…this couldn't be happening… this could not be real… I'm having I nightmare… I've gone insane… she is not dead!

I couldn't breathe, my throat was closing, my vision was dimming… I couldn't see, l was going blind… I couldn't hear, the blood pounding-rushing-screaming in my ears was deafening… my entire body felt as if it were burning, hot deadly flames coursing through my veins… the marrow of my bones screaming in terrified agony… I could no longer feel my fingers or toes or anything at all… the ground was spinning… this isn't real---

An explosion of scarlet fire engulfed the whole room

Waves of blinding bright flames shot out from where I stood… setting fire to the walls and ceiling and bed and doorway… great brilliant deadly torrents of fire devouring the entire room, flying out through the door and window, rolling over the living room, blazing higher…

From inside the depths of the flames high horrific keening shrieks of pain and terror rose and wavered- snarls and screams and whining whimpering cries- indistinct monstrous black shapes writhing and darting through the smoke and flame… and I felt nothing… the heat did not hurt me… fire licked up and around my legs, I felt no burn, no pain until something crashed into me with the force of a landslide, hurling me to the ground…

The smell of smoke and burning flesh made my eyes water and my breath choke… heavy savage claws pressed into my chest like knives as Jordan held me down and leaned in…I couldn't scream until the second the vicious jaws sank into my side. My body shuddered as the iron grip latched into my flesh, rending, tearing, piercing skin and muscle and bone… I felt hot spurts of blood gushing out into his mouth, a ragged rapturous roar and my own scream…

I kicked and thrashed and screamed, lashing back and forth against the impossible weight of the monster and the dancing devouring flames and the black smoke and the writhing shapes and the screams….

The beast let out a shriek of pain as flames licked up over his back, his hold was suddenly released. I rolled away, lurching to my feet- blind, dizzy, shuddering uncontrollably- I reeled about and stumbled over a body lying in the doorway… silky black hair ablaze with yellow flames and the reek of charred flesh… a strangled breathless scream, tears blurring the room into an orange-black mirage… this couldn't be real… I couldn't have done this… he couldn't have done this…

Blood pouring down my side… my body swaying… the monster howling in agony and still stalking me through the walls of flame… burning green eyes through the smoke… low growl of hunger and fury… lungs screaming for air… instinct screaming to escape…

Frantic trembling hands found a window… wrenched it open… I dragged myself through and hung for a second from the frame… the clean chilling night air raw and painful as I sucked in a ragged breath… salt of tears burning eyes and cheeks… the distant shrill call of a fire truck mingling with the low, terrifying growl of the creature somewhere above me… I closed my eyes against the ravenous dark flames rising higher and higher… let go and plummeted through the darkness…

**There you have it people, the story has come full circle, or almost… We started at the end and now we know the beginning, but hopefully there are still some mysteries you haven't figures out yet. If you want the next update REVIEW!!!!!!!**


	28. Chapter 27

This chapter is dedicated to my most zealous reviewer, Inksketcher. Thanks for the support and the passionate review…   
Chapter 27 

Dylan's POV:

"Hey!"

I didn't register that this call was directed at me, sounds were oddly muted in my ears, my head was swimming, it took everything I had to keep from blacking out…

"Hey you!" This registered slightly louder, l turned, it seemed to take a great effort, everything was frozen and heavy. I narrowed my eyes to try to see who was speaking; someone paused in the parking lot, noticing me stumbling and reeling a few yards away.

"Are you all right?" These words actually penetrated the thick cotton that seemed to have filled my ears, echoed in the dead silence of my brain, dropping into my numbness like a stone…. Was I all right?

What kind of question was that?

I was the farthest thing from all right a person could possibly be- all right was an absurd concept to me- by no stretch of the human imagination was I even faintly all right- it was almost comical how totally meaningless the term was to me, how far I'd fallen from the rational universe…

I grasped this thought and twisted it back into the darkness of my brain; let the numb daze move back in like fog… I didn't want to feel, I didn't want to think about it…

"What happened to you? Is that…?" There was a sharp intake of breath as the person stepped closer and saw the answer to the unfinished question.

"Holy shit." It was a woman, young, pale, dressed in a floral-patterned dress…I noticed that the colors of her clothing and skin seemed oddly bleached, dim…except for her hair- brilliant red hair that flared in my eyes like a sun, like fire, like blood…

I flinched and stepped away from her, felt another spasm of stunning pain in my side like someone swinging a spiked mace into my abdomen, another rush of nausea, I gasped, doubling over.

I felt fluttering hands, catching me as I pitched toward the pavement, warm soft skin… "You need to go to a hospital," her voice was panicked, I felt her steering me toward a parked car, I was too faint to resist her tugging and it was such a relief to slide into the passenger seat… I collapsed back into the leather and tried to force my limbs to stop shaking as the woman climbed in beside me, fumbling the key into the ignition, maneuvered her way out of the lot… She glanced over at me with eyes that seemed to pop out like a cartoon character's. I struggled not to vomit all over her dashboard as she pulled out into the road.

"What happened to you?!"

I leaned my forehead against the window, the cool glass soothing my throbbing head. Happened? What did happen? It had all spiraled out of control so quickly, like some wild nightmare… I wasn't even sure what was real… I couldn't force the events to line up properly in my head.

"There was a fire…" A fire… roaring infernal flames engulfing my entire life in a matter of seconds… the red haze clouding my eyes, and the chilling screeches of black shapes churning in the smoke piercing my ears…

I looked down and saw I was bleeding all over her seat…a dark sticky flow was seeping down my torso and onto the leather… the cotton of my t-shirt was soaked with the blood; it was so dark I could hardly see it, but I felt the torn fabric clinging to my skin sickeningly.

I reached down and pressed my hand against the gaping wound, trying to slow the bleeding… the car stopped for a moment and the red of a traffic light illuminated the stain on my skin as I lifted up my hand for inspection… in the bright luminance of the stop light the liquid on my fingers looked black as tar and my whole body glowed scarlet… I stifled a gasp as images of flickering flames rose in my eyes…

"Are you breathing alright?" I almost wanted to laugh at the question, I felt the panicked hysteria rising in my throat as though I'd swallowed a spider, but kept my mouth shut so it wouldn't escape. My breathing was like that of a terrified animal, fast and shallow, my chest rising and falling rapidly; I could feel my heart hammering against my ribcage as though it were trying to break loose, and I knew she could see it; she could see it, but she still needed me to deny it, otherwise she'd loose her head completely. I complied.

"I'm fine." I whispered, gritting my teeth as another surge of shuddering pain gripped my chest, l clenched my fists and squinted as the windshield swam before my eyes.

The light turned green, the car started forward again.

"Hang in there," she said soothingly, glancing over at me and looking alarmed by my clenched posture and the dazed expression on my face.

"We'll be at the hospital in a minute…"

A tall, broad, gray building rose up in front of the car like a mountain. We pulled up to it. The woman got out and opened my door, stepping back hurriedly as I leaned forward and retched onto the black asphalt an inch away from her shoes.

"Easy, take it easy, deep breathes." She tried to keep her tone calm, slipping her hand under my arm and leading me toward the building. The blaring red light of the "Emergency" sign over the entrance burned my eyes, the lurid crimson sending a fresh rush of nausea through me, quickening my pulse still more painfully… I felt like I was going to pass out.

Emily is not dead- Emily is not dead. I repeated it like a mantra to keep the numbness intact, to keep the intensity of the red at bay, to keep the black shadow at the outskirts of my consciousness…

As we passed through the automatic doors into the freezing reception area my stomach lurched again, the spiked mace swung another deep blow into my side, I breathed in sharply and my brain seemed to vibrate inside my skull… I looked down and saw that the blood must have trickled down my leg; there were splatters of ruby liquid on the glossy white tile, stinging my eyes.

Suddenly several voices were talking at once, distant and jumbled and muffled, nurses in white uniforms- gloved hands fluttering about like startled birds… my rescuer was left in the entrance room as I was pulled onto a gurney and started moving toward another set of white doors… the burning beacon of her hair faded and was swept out of view as the doors swung shut behind and I was wheeled down immaculate white hallways. To my eyes they seemed to narrow to tiny points of nothingness ahead of us, tunnels that led to no where…

The nurses turned the stretcher into a long white room-

More figures in blue and white of indeterminable gender darted about above me- bright eyes peeking out over paper masks- their jumbled voiced still muted in my ears… I caught brief phrases like "severed nerves…", "major blood loss…" and "surgery",

But none of it held meaning as it entered my ears…

The gurney stopped moving, there was a woman whose glasses flashed under the bright fluorescent light- her eyes were expressionless behind them as she leaned over me…

Scissors flashed and I glimpsed her pulling away blood-soaked strips of cloth, cutting away my shirt to better access the massive bite. Other hands were blotting with gauze and cotton, pressing down to slow the bleeding. Tubes were being attached to various places, a man with a syringe injected clear morphine into my arm, I watched as the liquid drained through the cylinder… sweet cool numbness spread through my body… the raw, unbearable pain gently diminishing as beautiful merciful relief moved through my blood, relaxing my muscles and turning the doctors to shifting, indistinct, white shapes over my head.

Abruptly a memory came floating to my mind's eye through the foggy numbness. The winter I was seven, still living in England, I'd slid on a patch of ice as I ascended the steps of our apartment building and dashed my head on the stone stairs. In the hospital waiting to get my stitches my sister had held my hand, stroking my forehead and whispering calming words as I sat shaking.

Six stitches above my left temple and she was still by my side, squeezing my hand and holding me together, my anchor, my rock… No don't think about that…

And then another memory- Jordan's warm rough fingers bandaging my wrist, his brows pulled down in concentration and concern, teeth clenched, but handling my arm with the gentlest care…

Unbidden tears sprang to my eyes under the bright beam of the ward light, blurring and smarting, tiny darts of silver pain…

I wanted that back- I wanted to rewind my life, back to when the world didn't seem to have spun off its axis into oblivion- All I wanted was her cool skin on mine again, her logic, her maternal rationality, her steady calm voice murmuring promises that it would all turn out fine… That couldn't just be gone… She couldn't be dead, she couldn't-

All I wanted was Jordan's warmth, his strength, his beautiful penetrating eyes assuring me of everything… his soft lips on my forehead, his arms encircling me in a ring of protection… How could that have gone so wrong? Changed into something so horrific? Where was the boy I'd loved?

Swallowed by flames…

My life had been burned to ash…

"The woman said she was in a fire." I heard a voice say far above me in the white cloud of fading faces… "Fire? How can that be possible, there's no sign of burns anywhere, only the bite…"

I closed my eyes against the tears and the silver flashes of tiny tools and let the morphine flood my mind with darkness.

Sometime around three AM they wheeled me out of Emergency and deposited me in a crisp white bed in a crisp white room with a poster of dolphins tacked up on the left wall. The window had bars set beyond the glass, and I wondered why. Did they think the patients fresh out of surgery would be trying to escape onto the roof? I tried to concentrate on the poster across from me, the slick nibble forms of the dolphins cavorting through turquoise waves, a perfect scene, a perfect world; I wanted so badly to step right into it and swim in the water warm as a bath under the cloudless pristine sky.

-If you went swimming your stitches would open, the blood might attract sharks, tropical waters are full of all different kinds of sharks…

-I'm not afraid of sharks…

-No, just wolves. Still teeth are teeth, eh?

At that moment the nurse came in to check on me. I told her my side hurt, asked for something to take the edge off. She nodded kindly, checked the chart at the end of my bed and gave me a dosage of Demerol. She was sympathetic, told me I was brave to have gone through such an ordeal, said the doctors thought I would recover within a few weeks, that I would be able to regain full use of that side of my body, the surgery had been successful, the nerves would heal… all empty words, almost foreign to me.

She instructed me to tell the attendant if I was feeling any pain, and they would give me more painkillers. I thanked her and watched her toss the syringe into the garbage and leave. I was hoping for instant oblivion. It didn't come.

-What, are you trying to drown me out with drugs? That's mature.

-Leave me alone. I want to sleep…

-You don't want to sleep; you want to forget what's happened.

I shut my eyes, pulled my legs up painfully so that I was in a fetal ball, tucked my head beneath the white sheet and willed sleep to come.

-Don't you want to know how you did it?

-I didn't do anything, go away…

-Hate to break it to you, but you did; you did something quite important actually. Aren't you curious about your gifts?

-Please go away…

There was silence in my mind for a second, and I prayed the drugs were kicking in and I would be swallowed by beautiful unconsciousness…

-You started the fire. Aren't you at all interested in how?

An icy fist closed around my heart, squeezing painfully. I tried to keep the fear and grief from breeching the dam I'd erected in my brain, struggled to stay numb.

-I didn't start the fire.

-Oh, how did it start then?

-I don't know…

-So you were standing there, grief-stricken, shocked, and terrified, and by some mysterious force of science the air around you suddenly combusted for no apparent reason?

-I didn't start the fire… it wasn't my fault…

-No? What are you really talking about here? The fire, or Emily's death?

Her name was an iron stake driving into my chest like a harpoon; I bit the inside of my mouth to keep from crying out at the pain of it.

-I didn't start the fire…

-But we both know you did. Why are you being stubborn about this? You have a tremendous talent, a gift beyond the ability of any other human being on the planet! You should be thrilled.

-I don't want a gift, I want my life back…

-That life is over and done with. I suggest you forget it ever existed.

-I can't.

-Why? Because you killed her?

Another stab into my heart like a needle, another throb of icy grief shook my entire body, I bit down harder on my cheek until it bled…

-Why are you doing this to me?

-I'm not doing anything; I'm trying to help you tap your potential. Perhaps I spoke too harshly; you didn't really kill her, your boyfriend did; there, better? Now can we move on? Your hands are clean of blood.

I covered my face with my hands, tears were rising to the surface, I felt as if a tremendous weight were suddenly descending upon me, crushing me, I was going to suffocate…

-I led him right to her…

-He wasn't looking for her.

-He thought she was me… I didn't even think-

-You didn't even think about how being involved with a werewolf might hurt her? A little late for that, don't you think? You tried to keep her out of it and she ended up being the one most affected; seems like your logic sort of backfired.

-It's my fault…

-No, it's _his_ fault, let's not be dramatic.

-He never would have come near her if I hadn't gone home… how could I have been so stupid?

-You're human; you're all born with horrendous judgment skills.

-She can't be dead…

-I assure you, she is. You saw the blood yourself. A terrible waste, that, doubtless it all burned in the fire, no good to anyone now.

-Please get out of my head- stop talking to me- I don't want to think about this anymore, it hurts…

-Loss is painful, my dear, but it's better to get it over with quickly. I'm doing you a favor.

The real favor would have been to wipe my memory clean of tonight's events, start with a blissfully clean slate, as if everything were still whole and alive and perfect. I buried my face in the pillow and tried to dissolve myself into the darkness, tried to let go of every atom of my body and let it float away into forgiving nothingness. The nothingness didn't come, but the drugs finally did, seeping through my blood vessels like syrup, trailing sleep in their wake…

-Fine, sleep it off, but don't pretend that this is going to soften the blow for when you wake up, this isn't going away, and she isn't coming back…

In my dream there was fire, a small fire, like a gas oven, tiny and translucent and blue, flickering and feathering under my feet and between my fingers. I lifted my hands up in front of my face to look more closely and the tiny flames sputtered and grew, there was a thin skirt of gold dancing above the blue cores, flowing over my palms and fingernails.

But they didn't hurt, there was no burn, no sting, barely any heat, just a pleasant warmth, like a living thing, and a sensation almost like tickling. And the fire was so beautiful if you just stared at it, so ethereal and hypnotic. And suddenly Emily was in my dream; looking as she had the first morning she found out about Jordan- the same clothes, the same haircut, the same guarded expression, her poker face. I knew she didn't believe that the flames were real; she thought it was a trick, and she was trying to get me to admit it.

No, they're real, I insisted, feeling oddly desperate, knowing somehow that it was crucial that she believe me,

I don't feel a thing! Look…

I reached out my hands to her, to prove that I was telling the truth, to share this phenomenon with her. The flames erupted higher without warning, bursting from my fingers toward Emily's face, her suddenly fearful eyes, her open mouth choking out one long high scream…

I was mute with horror, I couldn't have done this could I?

And I felt Jordan's hands on my waist, I sensed his quite strength, the calming aura he radiated. I turned to him, the fires licking over my entire body, blazing all around, and still I couldn't feel them…

You have to help me, I pleaded, feeling tears spring to my eyes, holding up my hands. They're not beautiful anymore, I don't want them, make them stop…

He leaned in and the fire was roving over his skin but he didn't seem to notice. His eyes were hooded and he spoke gently: It's too late, we can't stop it now…

His teeth were growing longer, sharper, his face suddenly didn't even resemble a human's anymore, it was a mask of malice… his teeth sank into my throat…

I gasped into wakefulness, shuddering, the white sheets soaked with sweat twisted around my legs. The florescent lights stung my eyes; I kicked myself free of the bedclothes in a panic, rolling out of the bed and onto the floor with a thud. I landed on my hands and knees against the cold smooth tiles. For a second I crouched like this, letting the coolness of the floor soothe the heat scorching my body, I wondered if it was because of my injury or because of the flames in my dream, the flames I'd made…

-Starting to get it now, are we?

I let out a soft sob; let my limbs slide out from beneath me, laying flat with my cheek pressed against the tiles, biting my lip.

-I started it…

-You created it, you willed it into existence.

-I didn't want that, I didn't wish for that-

-You didn't wish for it, but you did create it. Your emotions overtook your consciousness, you didn't intentionally conjure it, but it manifested itself anyway, as protection.

Protection? The fire hadn't protected me, it had destroyed my home, my life, how was that protection?

"Honey, what happened?" I opened my eyes carefully, afraid of being dazzled by the light again. A nurse was crouching over me, white uniform making her a chameleon against the whitewashed walls.

"Did you fall out of the bed?" She asked concernedly, helping me up and seating me back on the firm mattress, gentle fingers steadying my shaking limbs. I nodded mutely to answer her question. "Bad dream," I whispered, my lips trembling as I did so.

"I'll get you some water, and we'll give you something to help you sleep." She said kindly, patting my hand like a mother, her eyes liquid and warm. "You need your rest, you've had a long night. I'll be right back." She got up and exited the room, leaving the door ajar. The clock over the door told me it was six AM… had I really slept that long? It had only felt like a second.

My eyes moved down from the clock; I stared at the sliver of hallway I could see through the half-open door, white paint and white tile, posters tacked up every few feet, construction paper hearts with smears of paint on them, which did more to depress than cheer. I heard the distinct clipped speech of a news reporter drifting down the ward, "a fire devastated a downtown neighborhood early last night…"

I stood up with a jerk, a fresh spasm of cold fear twisting through my stomach combined with an aching pain throbbing through my side. I stumbled to the door and crept out into the hallway with shuffled, nervous steps, following the voice, nauseated and feeling a terrible grip closing around my chest, drawing me forward helplessly…

"The blaze started just past six o'clock yesterday evening, and investigators still have no theories on how it started…" The narrative was coming from the second doorway from the end, the door was open, I took hold of the frame to steady myself and stared up at the television mounted on the wall, feeling the frozen hand twist my insides still tighter.

"Although police and firefighters are certain the fire started on the second floor of the building in one of the rented apartments, there is no evidence to suggest any of the usual causes, leaving officials unsure as to whether the blaze was accidental or intentional." The Asian reporter straightened her notes and stared penetratingly into the camera for a second.

"The entire building, including the ground-level grocery and the three upper-level apartments, was completely gutted, according to the firemen who were still at work late into the night controlling the fires that had spread to neighboring buildings. The local fire department assured the community that no one in any of the other buildings was harmed. However, one victim was recovered from the ruins of the apartment over the grocery belonging to a single mother of two. The body was burned almost too badly to be identified, but forensic analysis revealed that the victim was English-born Emily Winchester, who had just turned fifteen that very evening. Mother, Allison Winchester, arrived back at the ruins of her home several hours after fire crews had put out the blaze, but her other daughter, twin sister Dylan Winchester, has not been seen since early yesterday morning and is presumed missing. A distraught Ms. Winchester told on-the-scene correspondent Ken Avery that police are searching the area for her daughter, and speculate that it is unlikely she was in the vicinity when the blaze began. Both the police and Ms. Winchester eagerly await a lead on the location of teenager Dylan Winchester, and hope to tie up all the loose ends to this tragedy as quickly as possible. Any further updates will be announced later today…"

My throat was suddenly feeling several sizes too small; air was having difficulty making its way into my lungs, my entire body felt numb. Hearing the calm, concrete confirmation of her death fall so effortlessly from that woman's mouth, as if it were nothing, just another faceless casualty, just another dime-a-dozen mindless death, a name, not a person, not a loved one; it was like someone had smacked me. She was really gone. I knew it, and now the whole world knew it. I couldn't bring her back just by wishing for it, and I couldn't pretend it had all been a twisted nightmare. Reality was coming down like an anvil; I couldn't absorb it…

The nurse came into the doorway and almost bumped into me. She was holding a paper cup and a disposable needle.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, a little startled.

I stared at my reflection across in the glossy window, the white hospital gown, the vacant eyes, the color was bleached out of my skin, sapped, just like everything else…it was almost as if I were dead myself, as if Emily and I had switched places…

The numbness was working hard to stay in control, but pure, unadulterated, burning grief was pushing through, flooding my lungs, my brain, my heart… I didn't want to have it all come crashing down on me at once, I would surely drown…

I can't do this; I can't take this, not all at once, please, not again…

Take the medicine, take a deep breath, whispered the voice.

The nurse led me back to my room and let me gulp down the water, gave me my shot and let me fall into the bed. The tears came as soon as the door clicked shut, and I really was drowning…

For a day I didn't move, I didn't eat, I didn't open my eyes; it wasn't quite sleep, it was more a huddled inertia, a slumber that gave no peace. I didn't want to be awake, to feel things, but I was afraid to sleep.

Periodically a nurse came in to check on me, I felt the light touches at my side, gliding over the thick bandages taped over the stitches, but I didn't stir. Twice I felt the prick of a needle and felt the medication leech the pain away; I was grateful, the numbness allowed me to hide inside my subconscious, I didn't have to open my eyes and deal with the pain if I stayed in the drug-induced haze. Being strung out on painkillers had its advantages.

Night eventually fell outside of my tiny white box; I cracked one eye open and saw the sky turning pink, then violet, and then finally indigo as the full moon rose to shine bright and perfect as a pearl above the glittering, writhing clamor of Los Angeles. The sight of the moon made my stomach clench painfully, my eyes stung, but I had no more tears to shed, no water was left to pour out, and my eyes were red and raw.

-It's beautiful, isn't it? The moon.

I wanted to smash my head against the concrete wall to silence the voice, but I didn't have the strength.

-Go away.

-Oh, I don't think you really want to be alone right now. Trust me, you'll be needing me soon enough.

-I don't need you, I don't want you, so you can just leave me alone.

-I know you don't mean that. You need someone to talk to.

-I don't want to talk to you.

-You know you should really stop isolating yourself; you're only making the pain worse.

My head ached with the pent-up grief, blood had formed at the corners of my eyes from all the crying I'd done, and still my chest felt hollow… pain wasn't especially new.

-You're wallowing. I'll admit you deserve to be upset over her death, but come on; you're really being a glutton for punishment aren't you? You've had your cry, you feel like crap, aren't you satisfied?

-It doesn't work like that…

-Your mother is still alive, have you even thought of that? Why haven't you given the hospital all your information, asked one of the nurses to call her down? How do you think she feels right now? As far as she knows she's out two daughters-

-Shut up!

-Oh tetchy…

-I can't see her- How could I…? -After what I did, what I let happen-

-She doesn't know you started the fire. And it was your boyfriend who killed Emily, the boyfriend she doesn't even _know_ about. What's the problem?

I was actually about to open my mouth to reply aloud, the grief and anger were burning so hot in my throat, but I suddenly heard a loud scrabbling from above. I broke off from the internal dialog, opened both eyes and sat up, on edge. The sound came again, louder this time, closer, directly overhead, like the sound of feet or claws scrabbling on metal…

There was a deep, ominous rumbling, like far off thunder, it permeated the ceiling and sent adrenaline exploding through my blood. I jerked out of the bed, suddenly wide awake, barely aware of the pain medication in my system; my heart was pounding, blood was rushing to my ears… this couldn't be happening, it had to be another dream, they were dead, he was-

The rumbling growl surged into an ear-piercing howl, suddenly much closer than before, and without warning a hulking black shadow that I recognized with a bolt of electric terror leapt down from above the window onto the roof a foot beneath the glass. The monster turned deliberately, raising its snout to smell the air, then the vehement green eyes found me and froze me in place…

_**Cliffhanger!!!!!!!!!!!**_

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